


Pictures of Reality

by mayquita



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Photographer, Angst with a Happy Ending, Captain Swan Big Bang, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, mentions of armed conflict, mentions of limb's loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-07-24 16:36:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 116,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16178963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayquita/pseuds/mayquita
Summary: Emma Swan returns to her birthplace, Storybrooke, in search of a fresh start after a life marked by abandonment and betrayal. After a year there, she finds the stability she needed and also the possibility of learning about one of her passions, photography. Killian Jones, a former British war reporter with a tragic past, establishes himself in the same town as an instructor of photography, following in the footsteps of his best friends, the Nolans. What will happen when their paths cross? Will their common passion for photography help them heal old wounds?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my contribution to the Captain Swan Big Bag Challenge this year. I still can’t believe it but it's finally happening! This story is so important to me on so many levels that I can’t even express it with words. I got the inspiration for this fic more than two years ago and even wrote some sections, but I didn’t continue with it until the CSBB event offered me this opportunity. Writing it has been a complete challenge for me throughout these months and an almost perpetual struggle. Even after the penultimate check-in, when my life turned upside down, I almost gave up. Fortunately, I was able to continue and edit it in time to offer it to all of you. My first complete CS fic, my first complete story ever.
> 
> Amy, thank you so much for all your help, your suggestions and your support throughout these months.
> 
> I can’t wait for everyone to discover the [wonderful art](https://imagnifika.tumblr.com/post/178728656621/i-was-very-honored-to-be-an-artist-for-mayquitas) that Kate has created for this story. It's amazing how she has been able to capture the essence of this fic. Thank you so much for your effort and for offering your talent to my story.
> 
> Sara, you know better than anyone what all this means to me and. I'd like to express my gratitude to you, my savior. There is part of you here and I'm sure that without your ideas and your continued support and encouragement this wouldn't be happening. THANK YOU! Thanks also to Chiara and Lena for your encouragement an to the moderators for making this possible. It has been totally worth it. And don't forget to check the rest of the amazing csbb stories!
> 
> Are you ready for a journey full of angst, friendship, family, love and lots of pictures? Here we go...

# PROLOGUE

 

###  **Killian Jones. A nameless town under an armed conflict. Two years ago**

This was the bloody end of the world.

Killian should be used to it already. His camera had captured countless anonymous people, wandering aimlessly through the streets of ravaged villages after so many of these absurd attacks. Their eyes, the reflection of despair, helplessness, and confusion. _Why us? What crime we have committed to suffer this punishment?_ They seemed to ask him without needing to utter words. _Being born in the wrong place_ , he was always tempted to respond. His lips remained sealed, though.

But this? This was hell come to Earth.

He was crammed into one of the shelters set up for the few international journalists who were reckless —or suicidal — enough to stay in a country that was falling apart. The only sound that accompanied them in these long minutes were the bombs falling over the town, destroying everything in their path.

The waiting always became eternal, especially because his thoughts took advantage of those moments of tense silence to torment him, reminding him that at least he was safe, while others - those who remained on the surface - were not so lucky. The pull of such guilt, firmly settled in the pit of his stomach, was a constant in these situations and today wasn't going to be any different. Other equally disturbing thoughts invaded him as well. He didn't stop wondering why he kept accepting to cover these increasingly dangerous missions. _Because you have nothing to lose anymore_ , he thought while bitterness washed over him. _Because someone has to be the voice of these innocent people_ , corrected himself.

After what seemed like hours, though it probably only lasted a few minutes, a shrill siren announced the end of the attack. The danger had passed - for now. However, his colleagues still seemed reluctant to leave the shelter. It was understandable, although all these journalists were fearless people, their reactions to these traumatic events could become unpredictable. This wasn't his case. He had the ability to keep his mind cold, especially because now that the attack was over, it was time to show the world what its consequences had been. So, ignoring the disapproving look of his teammate, he went out into the street, camera in hand.

His courage was challenged the moment he came to the surface. An oppressive atmosphere enveloped him in the form of a thick dust, while the smell of destruction filtered through his nostrils. The sirens of the emergency services, the only sound that reached his ears at the beginning. Gradually, when the villagers began to leave their makeshift shelters, the sound of the sirens was muffled by the screams and desperate cries of people searching for their families among the rubble.

The sensation of hell increased, as did his urge to run away, to seek refuge in his hotel room and take the first flight that would take him away from this damn war.

Killian gripped the camera, feeling his stomach tighten into knots. He could not let himself be carried away by helplessness and fear, not now. He clenched his jaw with determination, ignoring his urge to run. Instead, he started walking, looking for the effects of the destruction.

He spotted the first people a few steps away. A woman held a little baby in her arms, while two other small children clung to her legs with terrified expressions on their little faces. He approached them with tentative steps, making sure his press badge was clearly visible, while raising his hands in peace.

"Are you okay? Do you need something?" He tried to make himself understood, accompanying his words with gestures of his hands. The woman gave him a sad smile while shaking her head. The menacing tentacles of helplessness crept over him, coming dangerously close to his heart. The look that one of the children gave him, the girl who seemed to be the oldest, did nothing to alleviate his uneasiness. It was a look he knew very well - her eyes still hiding vestiges of childhood innocence, and a glimmer of hope that had not yet vanished altogether. He felt the need to do something to maintain that glimmer for a while. "Are you thirsty?" He offered, as he pulled a bottle of water out of his bag. Before accepting, the girl made sure to have her mother's permission.

"We're looking for my father." Killian was surprised to hear the girl answer, speaking in English, after passing the bottle to the other child, her brother, he supposed.

"How can I help you?"

The girl shrugged, while her lips trembled slightly. He offered her his hand, and the girl tentatively accepted it at first and then clung to it with more force. They didn't have to walk much. Luck had not completely abandoned this town or this family, after all, because in a few minutes a man hurried to them while screaming. Only then did the girl release his hand and run to the one Killian assumed was her father. He contemplated for a moment the family reunion, with a mixture of feelings - relieved, because this family was going to have a new opportunity, but impotent at the same time, because maybe tomorrow they would not have so much luck.

The events of the day had managed to drain all his strength and an extreme tiredness seized him, making it almost impossible to keep walking. Just as he was about to turn around in the direction of his hotel, the man approached him and offered his hand with a small bow in gratitude. He swallowed hard, pressing his lips together in a tight line, feeling shame overtake him. How could this man thank him when all he had done was offer a bottle of water and hold the hand of a little girl? As if that were not enough, the man pointed to the camera, asking him with gestures to take a picture. He had no choice but to accept, nodding in silence as he placed his camera in position and immortalized the bittersweet moment, a family celebrating a reunion amid chaos and destruction.

Just as he started to walk, a whistling sound through the air activated his sense of alert. After so many years in the line of fire, he had learned to recognize these sounds as the prelude to an impact. Instinctively, he threw himself to the ground, protecting the camera against his chest, while his body curled into a ball. The last thought that crossed his mind before everything went black, was that he hoped that the family he had just helped had gone far enough. His death would have been in vain otherwise. Then, nothing.

###  **David Nolan. London, two years ago**

"You're scaring me, David, what is it? What's wrong?" His wife knew him well. Although he had tried to maintain a neutral expression, Mary Margaret had only needed a glance at his face to know that the call he had just received did not bring good news.

The words repeated in his mind as a continual reminder, digging a hole in his heart and filling it with guilt and frustration. This should not have happened, he should not have allowed him to be part of this suicidal mission. The news, despite being devastating, had not surprised him. Deep down, he feared that something like this would happen sooner or later, but even so, the idea of confessing it to his wife, weighed like a slab on his shoulders.

David gave her a contrite look as he tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. Somehow, she knew it, because when their gazes met her eyes widened in horror as she put a hand to her chest. "It's Killian, isn't it?" She muttered. David could only nod in silence. "Is he... dead?"

"No, he's alive." David hastened to reassure his wife, approaching her and rubbing both her arms to try to give her some comfort. Once the initial shock was over, he forced himself to bury the thoughts that tormented him and instead focused on the most important thing, bringing Killian back home. "He is alive." David repeated it aloud in an attempt to convince himself. "He's been taken to one of the hospitals, he's safe now. We..." He pressed his lips together before continuing, looking for his wife's gaze. He needed her support here. "He only has us. I have to go, Mary Margaret, and make sure I bring him back." A wave of determination washed over him, as his stomach tightened into knots and his hands curled into fists.

"Sure, of course! Go and bring him back home, David." Her voice sounded almost like a plea, which caused his determination to increase. David nodded firmly, while Mary Margaret’s lips curled into a watery smile. They had already lost too many people in their lives that no matter how hard Killian engaged in that self-destructive spiral, they were not going to let him leave them that easily.

###  **Emma Swan. Boston, fourteen months ago**

Maybe it was chance. Maybe it was destiny. The truth was that she was not looking for it, but the name appeared, as if calling her, in bold letters in the middle of the newspaper's job offers page. She wasn't even looking for a new job. She was just bored, in a waiting room, waiting to be seen by her doctor at a routine checkup. The newspaper was the first in a pile on the table in front of her. And that's how she found it. **_Storybrooke_**.

**_Personal Assistant of the Mayor of Storybrooke, job description._ **

_We are looking for a master multi-tasker with excellent communication skills and an upbeat attitude. Candidates should be able to assist management and all visitors to the town hall by handling office tasks, providing polite and professional assistance via phone, mail, and e-mail, and generally being a helpful and positive presence in the workplace. In addition, an absolute dedication will be required for any demand from the mayor. In compensation, we will provide you with adequate accommodation in the town, Storybrooke, and economic reward for any event that involves working more hours than stipulated as usual._

_Storybrooke_. Her birthplace. And one of the few vestiges that she kept of her origin. A place and a knitted blanket with her name embroidered. And a hole in her heart every time she thought about it.

She knew little of the town, having spent only her first hours of life there. According to the records she still kept, Emma was adopted shortly after her birth and moved to Boston, to the residence of the Swans, which would be her home for the next three years. She had a happy life for three years. Or at least that's what she wanted to think. The truth was that when her adoptive parents died, she was still so small or so shocked by the loss, that any memory of that time was removed from her mind. She kept only a few photos from those years, pictures of a happy, smiling little girl, a person she was unable to identify with.

Her ordeal had begun the moment she entered the system after the death of her adoptive parents, with an incessant march of foster parents to group homes, new foster families, new group homes until finally, when she turned seventeen, she got tired and ran away.

She had never felt the need to return to her birthplace, too busy trying to survive first and then rebuilding her life after serving a sentence in prison for a crime she had not committed. At least that was what she told herself. But sometimes she would ask herself questions that she was afraid to know the answer to. Would her parents still live there? What would the house in which her mother spent her months of pregnancy be like? Would she have a sibling walking the streets of the town? Or maybe Storybrooke was just a fluke? A point on the map where her parents had to stop when the time of her birth arrived? Maybe they followed later, moving their lives away from there. Either way, she would never have answers to those questions, because she had no intention of returning there. Never.

That had been her premise for the following years. That name, and with it, her past, hidden in the deepest recesses of her mind, as if that town had never existed. Until just that moment when the word appeared before her eyes, tempting, like the song of a mermaid calling a sailor.

She fell into the net. The old questions, long forgotten, surfaced, while she was unable to look away. Would this be a signal? An indication that the time to return had arrived? A chance to find answers to all those questions?

Her weary mind implored her with silent cries to close the newspaper and leave it on the table again. Her heart, on the other hand, tightened in her chest, while her fingers tingled as they slid through the words.

In the end, her heart was the winner. Despite not possessing any of the required skills — she was just a bail bonds person, looking for people and earning her reward when she found them — she sneakily cut out the newspaper sheet that contained the offer and put it in her purse.

Later, in the shelter of her apartment, Emma forced herself to block any negative thoughts, acting mechanically, while starting a small investigation about Storybrooke, the town hall and its mayor. She also found the job offer on the internet. She only had a brief instant of hesitation, closing her eyes for a moment as her heart pounded hard in her chest. After exhaling deeply, she did not think about it anymore; she filled out the necessary data and almost without realizing it, applied for the job.

After two weeks, when she had almost forgotten about it, she received the call that would change her life. Emma had gotten a job interview. Although she tried to restrain it, a thought settled in her mind - a continual reminder: _She was coming home_.

###  **Emma Swan. Storybrooke, Present Day - November 4, 2017**

The sun was still far from appearing when Emma woke up that Saturday morning, finding her bedroom dimly lit. She snuggled up, seeking shelter between the sheets of her bed as she closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by what the rest of her senses captured.

Cold. The first days of November had brought an almost polar cold, causing her to use two blankets if she wanted to get to sleep. Damn this old building with high ceilings and difficulty to be heated conveniently.

Silence. That was usual in her apartment, since she lived alone. It was also one of the advantages of living in a town as small as Storybrooke. Or maybe that was not so much an advantage as a torture. Under this oppressive silence, her thoughts wandered freely, pressing in an almost constant company.

Because it did not matter where and when, it did not matter that since she returned to Storybrooke, the weight she had always carried over her shoulders had been lightened. Her ghosts from the past were always with her, hovering, as a continual reminder that, no matter how many people were around her, she would always be a lost child. No family or anyone to care about her. _You have made friends_ , her inner voice hastened to remind her. _Only acquaintances_ , no one to trust enough to make the protective walls around her heart disappear. Well, maybe someone, she reminded herself - Ruby, Graham and that little boy, Henry, whom she had clung to as a kind of lifeline that first day here, the day that her life would change.

Emma buried those thoughts in the most hidden corner of her mind. Today was not a day to let her demons torment her. Today was the day when something new and exciting would start. _Do not look back, always forward_ , she repeated her mantra with determination.

Hungry. It was still too early to have breakfast. But the nerves had that effect on her, causing an impulsive craving, a need to ingest any sweet and greasy food. And it was undeniable, Emma was nervous. So freaking nervous.

The nerves had already settled in the pit of her stomach from the moment she had received the camera as a birthday present along with a photography course, although she had managed to keep them at bay by staying as busy as possible during these two weeks. But today, the wait had finished and in a few hours, she would attend the first class of that course so nerves had made their appearance again. She needed a bear claw — or two — and a hot chocolate to try to placate them.

It should not be such a big deal, she tried to convince herself as she crawled out of bed and headed towards the kitchen. It was just a course for amateurs, just a way to learn how to operate the camera and spend an entertaining time every Saturday. She had not even bothered to inquire about the person who would teach that course. According to Ruby, he was a hottie, but considering that Ruby found almost everyone sexy, male or female, that had not worked as motivation.

Who was she kidding? Of course, it was a big deal. Maybe not for others, but for her. For the first time in a long time — ever — she felt that she had the opportunity to learn, to do something that totally motivated her, something she had wanted since she was a little girl and had seen for the first time how a Polaroid camera worked. Photography was the medium she had found to express herself, to shout to the world what she was like - how she felt, how she thought. She believed firmly in the power of the image, in the frozen reality captured in an instant.

Maybe that's why her Instagram account had achieved relative success. Her photos were honest, they showed reality without filters, and also showed everyone who followed her the beauty of the little details. But she needed more. It was as if a pull of creativity wanted to venture outside, but she could not find the channel to express it correctly. That was why this course and the possibilities offered were so important to her. She could not fail, not this time.

Since her social skills were not her most outstanding characteristic, she needed to make at least a good impression on a physical level. After all, despite her numerous insecurities, she could not deny her physical attractiveness and knew how to exploit it in her favor. It had already served her when she worked as a bail bonds person, and although here, in Storybrooke, she no longer needed it, her years of practice were not so easily forgotten. Maybe for that reason she spent more time than necessary in front of the mirror, trying to decide the most appropriate outfit. Finally, she opted for a creamy sweater that fitted perfectly to her curves, tight jeans and her inseparable red leather jacket, her protective shield.

"Dammit!" Emma almost shouted when she realized that she was late, so she hurriedly finished preparing, grabbed her purse and camera and shot out towards the exit, hoping that the traffic, usually quiet in town, did not decide to generate a traffic jam today. Before leaving, though, Emma remembered something.

She placed her camera on the coffee table, making sure that the light was right from that angle, took the phone out of her pocket and, after making the necessary adjustments, she shot.

  
**_TheLadySwan_ ** _I’m starting today a new journey that will take me to know more about this exciting world of photography. During the next twelve weeks I’m going to learn how to use this little gadget. So, what do you say? Join me on this journey?_

 

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke, Present Day - November 4, 2017**

Killian woke up the moment the first rays of sun filtered through his window. His years as a war reporter had had that effect on him, his senses were always alert to any change, no matter how subtle it was, he always was prepared to run avoiding danger.

He did not react at first, his mind still dull by the effects of sleep. Little by little, he began to become aware of what awaited him this morning, increasing his desire to go back to sleep and not wake up for at least another five hours. A sigh of frustration escaped his mouth as he run his hand through his hair, mussing it even further. Any motivation to start that bloody course had disappeared almost at the very instant his friend David had suggested the idea.

However, he knew that David was right - he needed to start over. Staying in England kept him too tied to his memories.

Still, he didn’t know if he would be able...

Killian stayed in bed, raising his left arm to look at the scar-covered stump, a continual reminder of how much he lost. Before his world had threatened to collapse once again, he was already aware that most people who lost a limb of their body still continued to feel it for a while. They even suffered real pain caused by the phantom limb. It was not strange to witness these cases when you worked on the battlefield, surrounded by soldiers. But nothing had prepared him to experience it in his own flesh. Even today, two years later, there were times when he felt that strange pain, a continuous reminder of the lost limb that still tormented him in spite of the time elapsed.

To make his situation even more pathetic, he hadn’t yet accepted the prosthesis he was forced to wear - a poor substitute made of metal and plastic, incredibly useless to make him feel anything, his own touch gone forever.

He rubbed his eyes with his right hand in an attempt to eliminate those negative thoughts, or at least keep them under the surface for a while, enough to properly start his new project.

After a deep exhalation, Killian finally decided to get up and start his daily routine, the same one he’d repeated since he arrived at Storybrooke four weeks ago.

Meanwhile, he did not stop thinking about what he might find this morning when he started classes. He knew, from his previous experiences, that most of the students who attended this type of courses did so to learn how to handle a complex camera or simply because they wanted to get the most out of their device to make family portraits or photos of nature. Killian could teach more professional courses, but what really satisfied him was finding a hidden gem in some lost town, someone with as much passion for photography as he had, and who otherwise would not have the ability to exploit or even discover that passion.

He might be the most pessimistic person regarding his own persona, but he did not lose hope in that other regard. He had already found some photographic promise in previous courses and, although he was now in a different country, he was confident to find someone really interested in absorbing all the knowledge that he could offer in this small, almost unknown town on the coast of Maine.

However, as the moment approached, the nervousness began to take hold of him. Killian had barely touched a camera since the attack. In fact, his whole life had been disrupted from that moment on. He was aware that he could continue to take pictures with one hand, especially if he used the prosthesis, but he had always been very demanding with himself, and he felt that his work would not be complete, that something would be always missing, either quickness when handling adjustments or balance to hold the camera or any other situation in which he previously had required the use of both hands. That was why this course was a challenge in terms of being able to transmit to his students what he could no longer do.

The start time of the course was near. Killian took a quick shower hoping that hot water would carry away those negative thoughts.

The shower didn’t work, though, his demons still wandering through his head, so he had to make an effort to try to bury them in the most recondite corner of his brain. That could only be achieved if he kept his mind busy. For that reason, he decided to focus on something as superficial as the clothes he was going to wear, determined to make the best possible impression.

His almost perpetual self-loathe had not yet left him blind, he was aware of his good looks — if he ignored his stump, that is — a resource that he continually exploited to mask his inner turmoil. He decided on tight jeans and a blue henley shirt, matching the color of his eyes. _That will work_ , he thought with ill-concealed vanity.

He kept all the necessary material in his inseparable backpack, his loyal companion, along with his old camera, the two objects that had traveled with him and shared all his experiences of the last few years, vestiges of the past he was not able to detach from.

Before leaving home with his backpack slung over his shoulder, he looked at himself in the hall mirror. He observed his posture and his movements until he got that armor that had worked over the years - the pose of a swaggering and vain dude; a mask of arrogance that hid his inner fears and frustrations. The reflection in the mirror returned a smug smile but at the same time, transmitting the confidence he needed to face this crucial moment. After casting one last glance, he was finally satisfied with his reflection. With a deep breath, he got out his apartment, leaving his inner demons parked and determined, _finally_ , to give opportunity to a fresh start.

* * *

_**Students List** _

_Anna Arendelle_

_Elsa Arendelle_

_Tink Bell_

_Ariel Fisher_

_Leroy Grump_

_Archie Hopper_

_Aurora Prince_

_Phillip Prince_

_Will Scarlet_

_Emma Swan_

_Robin Wood_

Eleven names. Eleven different people, with different experiences in life. Killian looked again at the list of people who would attend the course while wondering what was behind each of these names. He could have accessed the different files that contained the basic information of each of these people. In fact, Belle, the librarian who would perform the duties of his secretary, had offered him these documents, but he had politely rejected them. He did not want to create any preconceived ideas, preferring that these anonymous people surprised him. But that did not imply that he could not play with their names, assuming the kinship between some of them since some shared the same last name, or guessing their physical appearance, their aspirations... Hopefully, he would be able to put faces to those names shortly, now that the first class was about to start.

Seconds before the door opened, he inhaled deeply, while closing his eyes for a moment, burying any possible negative thought and replacing it instead with determination and the hope of finding a talent hidden among those eleven names. The moment the door opened giving way to the first students, he flashed his most charismatic smile, while his stomach tightened into knots of anticipation.

Unfortunately, his hope was short-lived. Killian only needed a first look at the people sitting in front of him to realize that this time there would be no luck, that no promise of photography would bloom in Storybrooke. At least not in this class. Maybe in the next one, the one with children, he would have more luck.

A sigh of resignation slid between his lips as he forced himself to keep the smile. He got up from the chair and stood in front of them, sitting on the desk, holding the tablet with the list of names with his right hand while leaving the prosthesis resting on the smooth surface, conveniently away from the rest of the eyes. No matter how threatening his inner demons were, Killian always tried to act committed to what he was doing, so, once again he ignored the screams of those demons and focused on his task, making his smile become wider while he displayed all his charm in front of the people who would accompany him every Saturday for the next twelve week

"Hello everyone and welcome to this course. I suppose if all of you signed up, it's because you're interested in photography, so, for the next twelve weeks, we're going to explore that exciting world together." He paused for a moment, making sure that his confident and closed tone managed to keep the attendees' attention. He found some heads nodding - _good_. "But for that, I need to get to know you, so, what do you think if we make a little introduction?"

His gaze traveled through each of the people, still reluctant to lose hope altogether. He just needed a spark, some hint, however subtle, but he found nothing. Only curious looks, even some boring expression. Still, maybe one of them surprised him with its introduction, although none seemed very willing to start, so to try to make things easier, he introduced himself.

"Oh, but where are my manners? My apologies for not being the first to introduce myself." He made an exaggerated bow, earning some giggles among the female audience. "My name is Killian Jones. I'm a professional photographer and have worked for many years as a press reporter." To his relief, his voice did not even tremble at the mention of his former profession. "Photography is my passion and I hope I can transmit it to you, but for that, I need to know what your aspirations are, so do any of you dare to be the next?"

The students remained silent, looking at each other, something he was already waiting for. He was not going to deny it, in a way, he enjoyed this type of performance, it was as if through the duration of the classes, he was playing a role, putting himself in the shoes of a different character to who he really was. The next step in the representation was to choose a name from the list. "Okay, since I see that you are all so willing to start, I will have to choose." He paused deliberately, looking at the paper as a means to generate even more tension among the nervous students. "Ariel Fisher?"

A redheaded woman, sitting in the front row, raised her hand hesitantly, while the corners of her lips lifted slightly. "Welcome, Ariel." His lips curled into an encouraging smile. "What can you tell us about yourself? Why are you here? What do you hope to achieve in this course?"

For the following minutes, Killian could finally put faces to all those names, while his hopes were fading away. At least they were mostly nice people, so he hoped that the next few weeks would be satisfactory enough on a personal level or at least not just a mere exchange of fake smiles and pretend.

_“I like to take pictures of the sea.”_

_“My brothers have forced me to come here.”_

_“We love taking family photos.”_

_“I spend a lot of time in the forest and taking pictures is a way to pass the time.”_

_“I have nothing to do on Saturday mornings”_

Those were some of the explanations that he got. Only two of them, the two sisters — Elsa and Anna, seemed to have a minimum of interest. According to their explanation, they worked in an ice cream parlor and wanted to learn how to take photos to create a website for their business. There was no spark, there did not seem to be talent. But it was a beginning.

When he got to the last person on the list, Emma Swan, he looked around, but did not find anyone. This person had not even bothered to appear. Resigned, he was about to cross out the name, when the door suddenly opened, giving way to a swirl of blond curls, a woman who moved with her head bowed while muttering an apology and who sat down quickly in one of the most hidden seats.

Killian cocked his head as he followed all her movements with renewed interest. At least she had brought a good camera with her. That was a good start. The woman, he supposed it would be Emma Swan, held her head down for a few more seconds, until finally, she looked up. His heart skipped a beat when his eyes met with an enigmatic green gaze and, most importantly, with a spark. When she blinked, that spark had vanished but, for a moment, had been there. Not everything was lost after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think. :)
> 
> What can we expect for the next chapter? We will learn more about Emma's backstory and we will also know how the first class develops.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We'll learn a little more about Emma's backstory: how she got the job and who gave her the camera and the photography course. We'll discover Emma's reaction after her first meeting with Killian and how the first class develops. Enjoy ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone for giving this story a chance. Thanks for your kudos and for your comments, they mean the world to me.
> 
> Go visit Kate's blog and enjoy her [amazing art.](https://imagnifika.tumblr.com/post/178949943216/im-so-excited-about-the-new-chapter-of-pictures) I can't forget to express my gratitude to my beta, Amy. I'm aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and besides English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.
> 
> A special mention to Sara, my perpetual companion in this world of writing. This story wouldn't be possible without you.

# CHAPTER 1

###  **Emma Swan. Storybrooke, two weeks ago, October 23, 2017**

**_TheLadySwan_ ** _Three in a row. It seems that the Gods of the traffic lights have conspired against me on my birthday. I'm late for my own celebration._

Emma was late, very late. She had never been characterized by her lateness, but it seemed that she had made a habit of it in the last weeks. She parked her car carelessly and ran to the cafe. She didn’t care what Regina would think, but Henry was there and she didn’t want to make him wait. Emma opened the door with some brusqueness, the bells announcing her arrival causing all the faces to turn towards her. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when her gaze met Henry, his face lighting up as he noticed her presence.

Today was a special day, not only because she was celebrating her twenty-eighth birthday, but just one year ago she returned to Storybrooke, her hometown. One year since she met that boy, who had succeeded in making her happy. Her lips rose slightly as she thought about that day when luck or destiny brought her here.

####  **_One year ago_ **

_Contrary to what Emma had expected, the first time she saw the welcome sign to the town while crossing the road in her yellow bug, she did not feel butterflies in her stomach, nor did her heart tighten in her chest at the thought of returning home. She only felt a fear that crawled up her throat and spread its tentacles causing an imperious need to turn back and get away from there. Emma ignored that impulse though, her hands clutching the steering wheel of her car until her knuckles turned white while her eyes remained fixed on the road. That intimidating sign was not going to stop her from continuing her way. It was just a job interview and she was sure she had no chance, but since she was there, nothing, not even that constant fear, was going to stop her from trying._

_Despite her determination, when she drove through the main street, she could not help but wonder about the same questions that had haunted her since she saw the ad in the newspaper. Why did her parents give her up for adoption? She could have grown up here. Or maybe she would have traveled with her family capturing the world through her inseparable camera. No. Family life and adventure were not in her cards. She seemed to have been born with a destiny already marked. No one had stayed long enough — for one reason or another. Either people disappeared from her life, or she ended up pushing them away._

_She at least had the consolation that her parents had not abandoned her, that perhaps she was given up for adoption to offer her an opportunity they could not give her. And if her adoptive parents had not died when she was three years old, maybe she would have had the opportunity to grow up with a real family... but it seemed destiny had something different in store for her…_

_Although she tried to push those thoughts out of her mind during the job interview, they were still latent, threatening to resurface at any sign of weakness. To her relief, her efforts to keep her demons at bay seemed to have an effect as the interview progressed, especially since the interviewer focused mostly on personal aspects, rather than on professional skills. After finishing, the secretary shook her hand and suggested that she stay in the town since she would have an answer the next day. The man said goodbye to her with a slight bow of the head, a tight smile and an enigmatic look that Emma was not able to identify._

_It was after leaving the town hall when the meaning of what had just happened hit her hard. When she embarked on this adventure of returning to her hometown, she did it not with the intention of radically changing her life, because the idea of really getting the job never went through her mind, but as a kind of challenge, something stupid, she thought, but it was as if her whole body had wanted to scream from the rooftops. ‘I'm here. I'm back. And in spite of everything, I have survived.’_

_But now that she had to spend a whole day in Storybrooke, with uncertainty hovering over her head, the urge to run away became stronger. Because walking through these streets meant that any of the people she crossed paths with could be one of her parents. When she was younger, she had created a thousand stories to justify the abandonment. They all revolved around heroic acts, as in a fairy tale, and at least she managed to forget her reality for a moment. But maybe now it was time to face that reality instead of ignoring it or escaping from it by creating fairy tales. These streets were going to tell her their story and she would have no choice but to listen to them._

_To her surprise, as she moved with tentative steps through the streets, that gripping sensation began to fade. It was as if the town itself was sending a silent message. While she walked through the streets and discovered its corners, a sense of a certain calm began to take hold of her. The idea of walking through the same places that her parents would have walked so long ago — maybe they were still doing it — made her feel at peace with herself, as if, somehow, she had managed to connect to them. That had to be a good sign. She was going to cling to this opportunity, to this sign of destiny that she had received in the form of an advertisement in the newspaper, with all her strength._

_Once she could overcome the initial oppressive fear, Emma began to see the town with different eyes, her lips curling into her first genuine smile since she left Boston — perhaps for much longer. Her heart fluttered in her chest, but while before the cause was fear, now it was anticipation. She began to imagine what life would be like in a town as calm as it seemed to be Storybrooke, what it would be like to walk along the docks, take lunch at the main street diner, meet its inhabitants… Enough! She slowed the escalation of thoughts that had gripped her. That was not happening. Tomorrow, she would return to her monotonous and lonely life in Boston. Sadly, that was her true destiny._

_But it was clear that destiny had other plans for her. The next day, the day she turned twenty-seven, she got the job. And with it, the opportunity for a fresh start, to direct her life in the right direction._

_But for that fresh start to begin, she would have to meet her boss. For that reason, today Emma was at the town hall reception, waiting to be attended by the mayor, Regina Mills. The damn wait was becoming eternal, a breeding ground for her insecurities to bloom. Emma shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she wrung her hands, wondering over and over again why she would have been chosen. Just when she was about to give up, the secretary, the same person who had done the interview, addressed her and pointed his head towards the office's door. The moment had arrived._

_“Come in.”_

_When Emma stepped into the office, her eyes widened while wandering around the room. The office was decorated soberly and elegantly, in all black and white. Behind a beautiful desk was the one she supposed would be Regina Mills, the mayor. Her first impression was in a way, shocking. She had imagined an affable person, but the woman in front of her was the opposite, with an imposing, haughty and intimidating look. Emma remained standing, unsure what to do next while an awkward silence loomed over them._

_"Miss Swan? Take a seat, please.” Regina gave her a long, deep look before pointing at the empty chair in front of the desk. It was obvious that the mayor was studying her, but if there was something that characterized Emma, it was her determination, so she held her gaze while raising her chin in a gesture of defiance._

_"Well, Miss Swan. Let's get to the point. As you'll understand, I'm a very busy person." Regina rested both elbows on the desk as she crossed her hands in front of her before continuing."I did not have the pleasure of interviewing you, but I fully trust my secretary's abilities. I think he definitely found what we were looking for." She paused, staring at Emma, her gaze unreadable. Emma held her gaze, but she could not help feeling a strange sensation, as if she wanted to read further, reach her very soul. Her lips remained sealed. Waiting._

_"I'm going to explain now what your functions will be. As you may have noticed, Miss Swan, I have several assistants who are engaged in different tasks, but I need someone of my complete confidence to perform certain functions, and this is where you come in. The job of mayor requires absolute dedication and therefore, I will also demand it from you. At any time, I may need your services and you will be available to carry them out. If I need you to go visit the sheriff station you will do it, at any time of the day. If I need you to visit any of the citizens to solve any urban issue, you will go when I tell you to."_

_Emma remained in a stubborn silence, although inside her blood had begun to run hot. She clenched her jaw as she bit her tongue in an attempt to avoid responding to such display of haughtiness. Her irritation grew at times when she saw how a shadow of triumph crossed the eyes of the mayor, as if she had achieved her goal of reducing her to a mere pawn. Emma felt her stomach drop to her toes as she realized how her hopes were gradually fading._

_"And one more thing, the most important, in fact. Your main task will be to take care of my son." Emma was slow to react, but when her brain registered the meaning of her words, her eyes widened in surprise. This time they were not merely her imaginations, Regina wore a triumphant look. And Emma hated her a bit for that. "Excuse me?" She mumbled as she felt the blushing of humiliation creep from her neck to her cheeks._

_"Ms. Swan, my son, Henry, is my priority, but my job as mayor is a full-time job, and I do not want to leave my son unattended because of that. Therefore, if I am busy, you will pick up Henry from school, take him to the library if I can't do it, or help him with his homework."_

_Emma pursed her lips, her heart pounding against her rib cage. It was her anger that finally got her to emit more than two words in a row. "So, if I understand correctly, my new job will be to run errands and babysitting." Emma snapped with ill-concealed sarcasm as she gave Regina a fake smile. Two could play this game._

_The two women looked at each other, one with a haughty expression, the other with a look of defiance, waiting for the next movement, while an oppressive silence loomed over them. After a few seconds in which the tension between them could almost be cut with a knife, Regina finally broke it._

_"Take it as a challenge, Miss Swan." Her expression softened subtly, though her next words acted as darts against her heart. "You can choose a new beginning, or leave before you start and go back to your ordinary, lonely life."_

_Emma let out a snort as she shook her head and stood up, ready to leave. She had had enough. Regina did not seem to take the hint, though. She continued, causing in Emma an almost unstoppable need to cover her ears. She did not want to hear anything else._

_"I see that you are going to choose the easy way... it doesn't surprise me, given your history... but perhaps you should listen to one more thing before you run away. You may be interested to know that Henry, my son, has something in common with you. He is adopted, as you were."_

_Emma stopped short, her whole body tense, her hands curled into fists as she turned to face Regina. "How do you know that? What do you know about me?" She hissed through her clenched jaw as she shot her a murderous look._

_"I know enough, Miss Swan." Regina replied holding her gaze showing a cold temper. "This may be an unknown town in Maine, but I have my contacts. Did you think I was going to trust anyone to take care of my son? I'm giving you a chance, despite your history. You decide - are you going to run away like you've done before?"_

_Emma repressed the urge to tell her to go to hell while she felt the disappointment washing over her. Just a few minutes ago she was hopeful, eager to start that new project, but now... "You don't know me." To her surprise, Emma's voice did not betray her inner turmoil. She was not going to give the satisfaction to that woman._

_Just as she was about to turn around in the direction of the exit, her gaze caught on a frame resting on a shelf next to the desk. Her heart tightened in her chest when she saw that it was a family photo. Regina appeared with her arm around the shoulders of a boy of about eight years old, brown hair, brown eyes. The child, Henry she supposed, was flashing a friendly smile. That little smile was the one that disarmed her. Her eyes closed for a moment, as she tried to pull herself together. She could have been that child, she could have had someone to care for her, and yet... Emma shook her head slightly, as she swallowed hard. After releasing a deep sigh, she finally made a decision. That boy needed her. Her running time was over._

_He seemed happy and Regina seemed to care enough for him so maybe she was destined to come back to Storybrooke for that reason, to make sure that child did not go through the same hell as her. Emma approached Regina again, both holding their gazes for a moment, Emma's stomach clenched in knots. Finally, she expressed her decision with only one question. "When do I start?"_

* * *

 A warm feeling spread across her chest the moment she caught sight of Henry sitting in a booth in front of his mother, in the same place they had chosen just a year ago.

"Emma!" Henry shouted in greeting as he waved his hand gesturing for her to come closer, his face splitting into a giant grin the second he saw her. Henry did not even wait for her to get to the booth, but instead hurried to his feet and wrapped his arms around her waist in a tight hug. "Happy Birthday!"

Emma did not react at first, not yet used to these public displays of affection after so many years alone. Even so, her heart fluttered for that little boy who had accepted her without hesitation from the moment they met just a year before. "Thank you, kid, and I'm sorry to be late," she said while ruffling his hair.

"I guess the congratulations are in order, Emma." She barely had time to sit in front of Regina when her boss addressed her. "I hope your tardiness doesn't become a habit." She added as she raised an eyebrow in warning.

Emma suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and instead gave her a tight smile. Despite their tense start, their relationship had softened throughout the year, thanks mostly to the kid. But there were times, especially when Regina displayed all that aura of superiority and arrogance that Emma found difficult to bear. Other times, she would catch Regina sneaking an enigmatic glance at her, as if she would try to decipher something hidden inside her, or as if she was aware of something Emma did not know. Luckily those occasions were rare, because Emma did not feel comfortable under that scrutiny.

She shook her head slightly in an attempt to make those thoughts evaporate. Today was not a day for complaints, today was a special day. They had something to celebrate and nothing - and no one - would spoil her moment. For the next few minutes, she focused on Henry, who entertained them with stories about the school and about the book he was reading. He was a great kid, smart, friendly and with a big heart. She could not be more grateful for having accepted that offer despite its frustrating start.

As it turned out, staying in Storybrooke had changed her life. Even so, Emma still carried too many demons from the past. Her old habits of not opening up to others in order to protect her heart were still deeply rooted in her. There was a persistent hole in her heart, not so deep now, but always latent. And that feeling increased every time she walked the streets and remembered her parents. 

Despite having access to the town's archives, she had not made any effort to seek information and had not asked Regina, although she suspected that perhaps her boss, who seemed to control every little detail of Storybrooke, could be the most appropriate source of information. A paralyzing fear prevented her. It was as if she was afraid to face the answers she might find, or as if knowing about her origin threatened the stability she had found when she arrived here and decided to stay. _No_. She was not going to risk the best thing that had happened to her in her entire life.

Thanks to her work, she had no choice but to deal with most of the inhabitants of the town and Henry himself had introduced her to the people who would be the closest thing to friends she had, Ruby, Granny's waitress, and Graham, the Sheriff of Storybrooke. Friendship was still a new concept for her, but these two people seemed to have accepted her as she was, and, although she still maintained her protective armor, it was becoming weaker and weaker thanks to the security she had found.

Just then, as if her memories had invoked them, Ruby and Graham made their appearance. The moment Graham spotted them, he went to the booth they occupied, offering her a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek in congratulation.

Ruby also approached them holding a cupcake topped by a lighted candle. Emma’s mind traveled immediately to the year before, when she experienced a similar scene, surrounded almost by the same people, although on that occasion, both her head and her heart were much more troubled.

On the same day that Emma had decided to accept the job, Regina had entrusted her to go to pick up Henry at school, without even giving her time to acclimate or to return to Boston to pack. _"It's Friday, Miss Swan, go meet my son and then you'll have the whole weekend to say goodbye to your old life."_ Regina had told her before dismissing her with a wave of her hand.

In retrospect, Emma still did not know the reason why she had confessed to Henry that day was her birthday when she had known him for only two minutes. By the time the boy had found out, he had insisted on organizing a celebration. _"Everyone deserves a party on their birthday."_ He had assured with determination, causing her heart to flip. The little boy had offered her more in just five minutes than any of the people she had dealt with in the past.

That's how they had ended up at Granny's, right in this same booth. And that's how she first had met Ruby, the sassy waitress and granddaughter of the owner, who had rushed to prepare an impromptu birthday party for a person she had just met. Maybe this was something common among small towns, Emma had wondered, a little bit overwhelmed by the attention she received.

That first day with Henry had meant the beginning of a series of experiences that, until that moment, had been denied to her. Like blowing a candle surrounded by people instead of doing it with only the four walls of her solitary apartment as witnesses. Or that someone would sing _Happy Birthday_ to her for the first time— at least of what she was aware of. Her time with the Swans was too short and she was too small to remember. And in the different foster homes and group homes, it was simply something that did not happen, at least not to her.

That unexpected celebration had also meant a change in a small tradition that she had followed since she first got a camera. Every year, no matter what the circumstances, however lonely or hopeless she was, she took a picture of herself in her birthday just before she blew the candle. She kept those photos saved in an album, as vestiges of her life, not as a proof of the loneliness that had always accompanied her, but as a reminder that she would never lose faith. She would always blow a candle, trusting that maybe, at some point, her wishes would finally be heard.

She had hoped that this was the first of many similar photos and time seemed to be showing that she was right since now she was going to experience again that feeling of being part of a group, of belonging to something. Before blowing the candle, she looked at Henry, who nodded in encouragement. Then her eyes went to Ruby and Graham, both of whom were holding their phones pointing towards her, prepared to immortalize the moment. When they both lifted their thumbs in unison, she closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and then expelled the air and with it the wish that nothing would change. That was all she needed.

When she opened her eyes, she found three pairs of eyes looking at her expectantly — Regina pretended to be very interested in the state of her nails — while Henry began to stir restlessly in his seat, his gaze traveling from Emma to his mother. Emma cocked her head as she narrowed her eyes, the corners of her lips rising due to Henry's behavior. It was obvious that the boy was after something, no matter how much he tried to hide his excitement. Regina also noticed it as, after raising her eyes to the ceiling and muttering, "Patience is not your greatest virtue, it's evident," she bent to reach for something under the table and passed the bag to her son. Henry hurriedly pulled the contents out of the bag and placed a package decorated with wrapping paper, right in front of Emma, while his lips curled into an adorable smile and his eyes sparkled with anticipation.

"Open it!" He required, unable to hide his impatience.

This was also new. Gifts. Someone thinking about her and buying something just for her. Emma felt a lump forming in her throat and sudden tears threatened to slide down her cheeks. She blinked a couple of times to hold back the tears and began to open the gift with slightly trembling hands before the attentive glances of Ruby, Graham, Henry and Regina.

Her eyes widened in shock when she saw the contents of the box. A DSLR camera. A simple object that had a great meaning for her, a future full of possibilities. "How..." Her voice trailed off as her gaze sought Henry's. "I... I can't accept it, it's too much." Emma muttered as an overwhelming sensation crept up to her heart.

"You don't like it." A shadow of disappointment crossed Henry's gaze causing her stomach to tighten into knots, so she hurriedly explained.

"Of course, I like it, Henry, but you didn't have to bother with such an expensive gift." She said in a soft voice, her lips drawing a grateful smile.

"You can consider it a kind of retribution for your dedication to the tasks entrusted this past year." Emma was surprised by Regina's unusual gentle tone in addressing her. "It was Henry's idea, after all." She added as she shrugged, the corners of her lips rising slightly. Regina going soft was so new that she felt like using her new camera for the first time just to immortalize the moment.

"I thought it was a good idea, since you're always taking pictures." Henry tried to explain himself in a hesitant voice.

"It's the best gift I've ever had, thank you very much." Emma assured him. That was enough for his face to light up, a giant smile blooming on his face, making her heart melt a little more in the process.

"And that's not all." Graham announced bringing another much smaller package. "Ruby and I also wanted to contribute in some way."

"Open it, open it!" Ruby added, bouncing excitedly.

Emma let herself be infected by the enthusiasm of her friends and accepted the package. It seemed that the surprises were not over. The moment she saw the content a gasp escaped her lips.

_12-week amateur photography course taught by professional photographer Killian Jones._

 Emma was unable to look away from the card in front of her. This was too much. When she agreed to this little celebration, she only hoped to spend a pleasant evening with people important to her. However, what they were offering was not only a gift, it was the possibility of fulfilling her dreams, of making her passion escalate to a new level. She did not know how she could compensate these people for everything they were doing for her.

"It starts in two weeks." Ruby explained. "And I've been told that the instructor is a hottie." She added as her eyebrows danced suggestively, earning a roll of eyes from Graham at her side.

"Miss Lucas, do you realize that there are children in front of you? Watch your mouth." Regina hissed as she cast a sidelong glance at Henry. He didn't seem to mind, quite the contrary, since he began to giggle, getting the others, including Emma herself, to follow him. Even the corners of Regina's lips rose subtly, the barest hint of a smile crossed her features.

"You're going to go, aren't you?" Graham asked, his penetrating gaze and his insistent voice making it impossible to reject it.

"Of course. Besides..." Before continuing, Emma cast a sidelong glance at Regina and Henry and then placed her hands around her mouth, as if she were confessing a secret and muttered, "...I've been told that the instructor is a hottie, I couldn't possibly refuse."

Graham rolled his eyes again, an amused grin tugging at his lips, while Regina huffed and Ruby lifted her hand to Henry's for a high five.

Emma couldn’t stop the corners of her lips from twisting upwards, drawing a smile full of affection for all these people. She clung to the card that contained the course information while trying to calm down, unsuccessfully, since she was so excited and grateful for the opportunity they were giving her that she did not know whether to laugh, cry, or hug everyone. Maybe she could do all three things at once. It was her special day, wasn't it? She was allowed to do whatever she wanted. So she parked her fears for a moment and postponed her nervousness for the next day. Today, she was going to enjoy her twenty-eighth birthday fully.

* * *

 

###  **Emma Swan. Storybrooke, Present Day - November 4, 2017**

"Seriously?"

When Emma had to stop the car at the third red traffic light in a row since she left her apartment, she wondered if the traffic Gods were sending her some kind of premonitory signal. She suppressed the impulse to bang her head against the steering wheel and instead began tapping it with her fingertips, while mumbling, "come on, turn to green."

Five minutes late. Her heart hammered in her chest when she finally spotted the library building, where the course she was attending — or would attend, if she could get there at some point — would take place. She parked in the first free spot she found, grabbed her purse and her camera and rushed to the entrance.

"It's the first door on the left." Belle, the librarian, pointed to the hallway the moment she saw her, no doubt aware of her tardiness. "The class has just started, Emma, don't worry." Belle added, leaning on the counter while offering a reassuring smile.

Emma nodded, her lips drawing a tight smile, as she headed straight for the door. Only when she was in front of it did she take a second to catch her breath and pull herself together. Her eyes closed for a moment as she inhaled deeply in an attempt to spread calm throughout her body. Then, she opened the door.

Several pairs of eyes turned toward her, but she ignored them, murmuring an apology as she walked swiftly with her head down toward the only free chair in the room, one fortunately far enough away to allow her not to draw too much attention. She did not even look at the guy who was sitting in front of the class, the instructor, she supposed.

Only when she felt comfortable enough, from the shelter of her seat and with her camera placed on the table in front of her, did she dare to look at the person who would be her instructor for the next few weeks.

 _Holy shit, Ruby was right._ Emma thought when her gaze met the man's - two blue eyes staring at her intently while his head tilted slightly. Her cheeks began to burn at the scrutiny, but she did not look away and when neither did he, she noticed how a hint of interest crossed his gaze.

"I'm glad that you have finally decided to honor us with your presence..." The man took a look at the tablet he held in his hand and then looked back at her. "...Miss Swan."

A chill ran down her spine when she heard him, but Emma was not sure if the reason was his accent or the sardonic tone of his voice or the way he pronounced her last name, gently sliding the word between his lips. Still, his scrutiny and his slight reproaching tone made her shuffle uncomfortably in her seat. _So much for making a good impression on the first day_ , she thought. "Sorry, it was the traffic." She muttered an excuse that sounded unconvincing, even though it was true. Sort of.

"Oh, sure, traffic, that big problem in a town like Storybrooke." His sarcastic tone did not disappear, causing Emma to press her lips together into a thin line, in an attempt to hold back the biting retort burning on the tip of her tongue. She did not need to continue embarrassing herself. "Anyway, now that we're all here, we'd better continue with the introduction to keep moving forward in our first class. Since all the others have been punctual, it's just you, Miss Swan, so you'd be so kind to let us know who are you and why are you here?"

All heads turned in her direction, causing her shoulders to lift and her cheeks to burn again. She suppressed the urge to run away though, and decided to behave like the grown woman that she was supposed to be. At least that's what her brain thought, her mouth had other plans. "Honestly, I don't think that's necessary, everyone already knows me here."

"Everyone except me. So, who are you, Miss Swan?"

Emma cleared her throat as she straightened in her seat, keeping the man's scrutinizing gaze. "I'm Emma Swan, the mayor's personal assistant."

"And why did you decide to join this course, Emma Swan?"

Why did that man look at her so intensely? It was as if he was trying to find something beyond her gaze, as if he was waiting for a certain response on her part. Maybe it was the nerves caused by such scrutiny, or the tension of not being sure what answer he was looking for. Whatever it was, her mouth decided to act on her own again while her brain was still processing what would be the most appropriate response.

"I just got this camera and the course to learn how to handle it."

The moment the last word slipped between her lips Emma was aware that her answer had been completely wrong. Any glimmer of interest that could have hidden the instructor's look vanished in an instant, the disappointment was written all over his face.

He looked away after letting out a sigh— of resignation perhaps? — just when her brain decided to come out then of its lethargy, all the explanations she should have given popping up into her head. _Photography is my passion. It's the best way I have to express myself. I'd like to absorb all the knowledge that an expert like you can offer me in order to give the best of me in this art._ Too late.

But the worst part was still to come. In case Emma hadn't embarrassed herself enough, something caught her attention as the instructor held the tablet, a glimpse of his left hand, or technically, of what appeared to replace his hand. Her eyes widened in surprise when she detected that there was a prosthesis at the end of his left arm. Emma frowned with a mixture of confusion and admiration as she wondered how he would manage to handle such a complex camera with one hand when she had difficulties with both hands.

When she looked up, she met Killian's penetrating gaze, who had caught her staring at the prosthesis. Emma looked away, while she felt like a furious blush of embarrassment crept up from her neck to her cheeks. She wished at that moment that a hole would open under her feet and suck her to free her from this agony. So much for that first good impression.

"Thanks for your input, Emma." He said through a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. "And now, we better enter fully into the subject." He finally seemed to give a break to his scrutiny, addressing the rest of the students. "Welcome everyone to the fascinating world of photography."

Killian — that was his name, wasn't that? Shit, she should have looked at the card before coming, to be sure, or have arrived earlier, so she would not have missed his introduction — turned to reach for his backpack placed on the desk, looked for something inside and then held it with his right hand. A camera. Obviously. "Although it may be intimidating, once you have learned the basics to operate this small device, it will become your faithful companion, following all your steps wherever you go. So, today's class will consist of familiarizing ourselves with our respective devices. The camera is not our enemy but our ally here, so what better than to get the best out of it?"

For the next few minutes, Emma focused on his explanations in an attempt to forget the previous embarrassing moments. It was not a complicated task, since it was evident that the guy knew what he was doing. Perhaps it was his simple and close language, far from complicated technicalities, perhaps the passion that his words gave off, whatever it was, the next hour flew by while Emma listened, enthralled by all his explanations as she tried to absorb all his knowledge putting them into practice with her own camera.

"And now guys, the time for your defining moment has come."

Emma narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, a sense of mild panic gripping her as she followed his every move. The others seemed to feel the same, since they began to murmur among themselves as they shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"Come on, guys, I guess you're already tired of my boring talk. Now comes the best part of the classes - the practice.” Emma could not help but feel a pull of excitement at the possibility that he was offering to potentially rectify her uncomfortable start. Maybe she could not control her mouth or her thoughts, maybe she could not even control the camera, but she did know how to look through a lens.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw someone raising a hand. Aurora Prince. Killian nodded at her as a prompt for her to speak. "So, we're going to take pictures?"

 _No. We are going to paint our nails. Seriously?_ Emma suppressed the impulse to roll her eyes while wondering what people like Aurora and her husband did here. They had never shown any interest in photography. Or Leroy, the most grumpy person in the world. Maybe he was here to get through the typical Saturday hangover, keeping himself safe from his numerous brothers. A snort escaped her mouth as she imagined such a scenario, gaining the reproachful look of some of her classmates and a smirk from the instructor himself.

"Yeah, we're going to take pictures." Killian confirmed without giving any sign of sarcasm. Apparently, he was more diplomatic than her. "I'd like to know with what level of skill each one of you starts, to be able to adapt the following classes to your needs, so I thought that for this first practice, you could work in pairs and take some portrait photos."

All the others seemed to move in coordination because, in a matter of a couple of minutes, they had all been paired. Everyone except her, of course. Emma tried to ignore the pang of hurt, trying to justify the fact that she had been rejected. Most of the couples formed already had a previous relationship, she told herself. Robin and Will were friends, Elsa and Anna, sisters, Aurora and Phillip were married. Emma did not know that Ariel and Tink were related, though. And the union between Archie and Leroy was like a little thorn in her heart. But Leroy was Archie's patient, maybe it was a kind of therapy or something?

Emma was so focused on analyzing the pairings and justifying them, trying to stop the — unfortunately well-known —feeling of rejection, that she did not realize at first that the instructor had appeared beside her.

"I guess that leaves us together, huh?"

Her head snapped up at the close sound of his voice. "Uhm, I guess I have no other choice." She shrugged, one side of her mouth tugging up as she looked at him. _Holy shit!_ Now that she had him closer, his eyes seemed even bluer, and his scruff had an interesting reddish shade in contrast to his dark hair, and those lips... _Focus, Emma!_   She shook her head subtly as she grabbed the camera with hesitant movements.

This was so awkward. Emma glanced at the others, who seemed to be having a good time, all smiles — except for Leroy — poses, and funny faces in front of the camera. Meanwhile, she was there, in a corner of the room, in front of the instructor, who had crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for instructions, she supposed. And to create even more tension, she felt that this was like a test. She had to prove to herself that this was what she really wanted to do.

"Do you need some help there?" He offered through a gentle smile.

"Uh, no," she breathed as she bit her lower lip, rocking back and forth on her feet, "I'm just trying to figure out what to do."

"It's okay, lass. This is not a test of technique. Feel free to do anything that crosses your mind. I'm at your disposal here."

Maybe it was his soft voice, his nod of encouragement or maybe that sparkle of interest that had returned to his eyes. The fact is that she swallowed any insecurity she might have had and got down to work. She grabbed the camera with determination and began to instruct him to move slightly or stand in a certain position while she tried to make the necessary adjustments and find something creative that could express some meaning. He obliged without a single complaint, an amused half-smile never disappearing from his lips.

Finally, she found what she was looking for - the most suitable background for her photo. After giving him the last instructions and making the last adjustments, she looked through the viewfinder and, once satisfied with the image on the other side of the lens, she shot a couple of photos. Next, she looked at the result through the camera's screen. Her intention had been to photograph only half of Killian's face, focusing on his eye, whose color matched the color of the background. She had also wanted to include the word that appeared on the poster in the background, also in blue tones. _Learn_. The idea was there, she thought pleased, although she found something odd in the background.

"Let's see what we have here." Killian approached then, pointing towards the camera. "May l?"

"Yeah." She handed him the device, while her bottom lip caught between her teeth and her stomach clenched in knots of anticipation for knowing the opinion of the expert. To her relief, his eyes went wide briefly as his lips twisted in approval. Or at least she hoped so.

"Your choice is quite interesting." When Killian turned his gaze from the camera to her eyes, she could detect that the brightness of interest had become more pronounced. "Can I ask you why you chose this type of portrait? Let's say, it's a bit atypical."

"Well..." She hoped her voice wasn't shaking. "I assumed that the others would make more traditional photos, so I considered taking a more innovative angle."

Killian cocked his head slightly to one side, arching one of his eyebrows, as if deciding what to say next. Emma held her breath until he decided to speak again. "The result is quite satisfactory. We'd have to work a bit more on the approach, though, but it's original and creative. Good job, lass."

Emma felt her stomach flutter due to both his words and the appreciative smile he gave her. Maybe that's why she finally dared to express what she had wanted to do at the beginning. "I'm not here just for the camera. I mean, it's true that it's a gift and that I have no idea what to do with it, not yet, but I'm going to learn. I love photography both as media and as art, and I want to express myself through pictures. " She slightly raised the hand that held the camera to reinforce her words. "I want to create stories through it."

This time, her choice of words did seem adequate. Killian looked at her with a new glow in his eyes, something she could not identify exactly, but that made it impossible to look away. It was only when he spoke again that she was able to get out of the trance to which she had been subjected by the spell of his eyes. "I'm glad to hear that, lass. Maybe our paths have crossed for a reason, maybe we're on the right track to finding what we're both looking for."

 _Hope_. That was what she detected behind his intense gaze. And also the shadow of something deeper, as if those eyes had witnessed many stories, not all pleasurable. Emma felt hopelessly attracted by the enigma that Killian Jones had become, finding herself wanting to know those stories and to understand the cryptic meaning of his words. She had eleven weeks ahead to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think :)
> 
> What to expect in the next chapter? We'll discover more pieces of Killian's backstory from David's point of view, and the connection between the two of them. And the photography course will continue with the second class.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What to expect in this chapter? We'll discover more pieces of Killian's backstory from David's point of view, and the connection between the two of them. And the photography course will continue with the second class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone for giving this story a chance. Thanks for your kudos, likes, reblogs and for your comments, they mean the world to me. 
> 
> I'd like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta, Amy. I’m aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and besides English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.
> 
> Go visit my Kate's blog and enjoy her amazing art. [The art](https://imagnifika.tumblr.com/post/179177282176/imagnifika-its-here-its-here-finally-i-can) that accompanies this chapter is the first piece, but not the last one, related to Instagram that Kate has created. She has done a wonderful job. Also, I’m in love with the banner.
> 
> Sara, thank you for everything.

# CHAPTER 2

###  **David Nolan. A hospital in a nameless town under an armed conflict. Two years ago.**

David had had enough time to think about Killian's condition, but, to be honest, the urgency of the preparations for the trip and his emotional farewell to Mary Margaret had distracted him for a while. The flight was another story though -  too many hours ahead while uncertainty and guilt dug a hole deeper and deeper into his stomach and into his heart.

That sense of failure increased the moment he entered the hospital room, his breath caught in his throat as he witnessed for the first time the precarious situation of his friend. He looked so fragile, so vulnerable in that bed, his face marred by multiple small lacerations, surrounded by machines and wires everywhere. He had to repress a gasp when his eyes traveled to his left arm, the place where his hand should be, now covered in bandages, hiding the absence of his limb.

_At least he is not conscious at the moment,_ David thought, as he squeezed his eyes closed with his fingers. That gave him some time to figure out how to bring the subject to Killian the moment he woke up.

_It’s so unfair_... David swallowed hard, a bitter feeling tugged at his stomach, as he felt impotence and frustration washing over him. It was as if Killian was condemned from the beginning. As if someone were exercising a perpetual punishment on him without him committing any crime. How many losses could a person endure before finally giving up? If Killian was already walking on the precipice before, David did not even want to consider what would become of him when he was aware that, not only had he lost a hand but also probably the opportunity and escape that his work and photography had offered so far.

_He can still take pictures. Luckily, he has not lost his dominant hand. And there are very advanced prostheses, and_... David tried to convince himself, but knowing Killian's perfectionism about his passion, he knew in advance that it would be a losing battle.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he sat on the chair beside Killian’s bed and buried his head in his hands. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the rush of memories pouring into his mind, hitting him hard. Still, he could not help the corners of his lips rising slightly as he remembered that first time he had met Killian, when he was just a boy. A lifetime had passed since that first encounter, but he remembered it as if it had happened yesterday instead of seventeen years ago.

* * *

_Killian was thirteen years old when David first met him. He was a rangy boy, with an abundant mop of hair always disheveled, intense blue eyes and a camera hanging around his neck, his eternal companion._

_That was also the first time David met Liam Jones, who was twenty-one years old when he started doing an internship for the same newspaper as David. They connected immediately, perhaps because they had similar personalities, or perhaps because each one found support in the other._

_David had arrived in London two years ago along with his girlfriend, Mary Margaret, fleeing from a town that hid too many painful memories. They were still getting acclimated to their new life in a different country when Liam appeared, accompanied by his brother. The Joneses had come to the city in an attempt to forge a future and a better life for both Liam and Killian. The arrival of the two brothers was the opportunity to build up the first true friendship since they left the States._

_From that moment, an unbreakable bond formed between them, including Killian, the constant shadow of his brother. Killian felt such devotion for Liam - to the point that he followed all his steps. It was not unusual to see him in the newspaper office, after school, being a pain in the ass for some of his colleagues, due to his incessant questions and insatiable curiosity. Others, like David himself, and, above all, Mary Margaret, irremediably fell under his charm, seduced by his liveliness, and also (though they would be slow to recognize it) because Killian's presence in their lives had allowed them to channel into him that innate paternal instinct that had been torn up by the roots so many years ago._

_They lived happy years from that moment. The four of them became the closest thing to a family, sharing meals, vacations and traditions. Killian, who, at sixteen, already offered a glimpse of the young man full of charm he would become a few years later, was David's best man at his wedding with Mary Margaret. Liam was chosen to walk her down the aisle. The three of them also had witnessed, with their hearts full of pride, Killian's graduation and the beginning of his studies to become a journalist and follow in the footsteps of both his brother and David himself._

_In retrospect, David should have suspected that, even though those were the happiest years for Killian, he already carried several demons from the past. At least those demons seemed to have subsided during those years, and maybe they would not have resurfaced had tragedy not decided to hit them hard._

_Ten years after they met, David lost his best friend, Mary Margaret lost her confidant and Killian - oh, Killian - lost everything. That was the moment when his demons began to attack him with ferocity, threatening to tear him to pieces._

_David did not even have time to mourn Liam’s death. He put the responsibility on his back — Liam would have wanted it as his brother had always been his priority, so he could not fail him — swallowing his immense pain and the emptiness in his heart and acting as support for his wife and Killian. It was an arduous task that led him to hide on occasions while drowning his cries of helplessness for not being able to help Killian when he began his escalation of suffering and despair._

_Killian blamed the injustice of the world for his brother's death, who had fallen covering a story in a lost town involved in a war that nobody wanted to hear of. His spiral of self-destruction had begun there, although at first tentatively, showing his jaws in the form of the tempting alcohol, his refuge in those days of despair._

_David did not give up, though. Both he and Mary Margaret managed to bring back the essence of that curious child they had known for the first time. They were not alone in this battle either since, three years after Liam's death, Killian met Milah. She brought with her what Killian needed most besides love - hope._

_That mirage of happiness lasted only two years. Milah died abruptly in a car accident, without time for farewells or to assimilate the news. A minute before she had been full of life, with her adventurous eagerness and her desire to conquer the world. The next minute, she lay lifeless in a hospital bed. That accident not only took Milah's life but also left Mary Margaret without a great friend, and ripped out Killian's heart, snatching away the promising future they had begun to build together. David had to carry himself again with the responsibility of caring for and protecting his loved ones._

_This time, it was a battle almost lost, though. Killian’s eyes, once full of vivacity and curiosity, were now a reflection of the emptiness he felt - two blue stones that looked at the world with coldness at times, and on other occasions, they were charged with a storm of determination in the fight against injustice. The spiral of self-destruction became more pronounced, leading Killian to accept the most dangerous covers, traveling to countries of eternal wars. "I have nothing to lose and someone has to be the voice of these people"  became his mantra when David tried to convince him to abandon those suicide missions. His attitude left David and Mary Margaret with a continuous sorrow, with a terrible fear that one day, the phone would bring them the news they feared so much - that they would have lost him forever._

A sound coming from Killian's bed brought David back to reality. David raised his head, looking towards his friend, who had begun to move uneasily, perhaps as a prelude to his awakening. Anxious and worried, he moved even closer to his side, while his heart hammered against his ribcage. Still, a new sensation, a fierce determination, settled in his chest. Killian was a survivor, and no matter how much it cost, they were going to get ahead. Together.

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke. November 5, 2017**

Given the history of losses that Killian had suffered throughout his life, it was strange to find a constant, a thread that kept him tied to reality, a restraint that prevented him from losing himself completely. And those were his friends, David and Mary Margaret. It did not matter how much he'd tried to push them in the past, get away from them. He always ended up coming back. And most importantly, they always accepted him.

Even in his worst moments, when he had hit rock bottom, they came to his rescue again by offering him the opportunity for a new beginning, following their footsteps into their homeland in an almost desperate attempt to leave behind his demons from the past.

He had obviously not managed to get rid of them, but at least those lingering demons had stayed under the surface during the four weeks he had been in Storybrooke. Keeping busy while adjusting to his new life had been very helpful.

In addition, staying close to the Nolans also meant maintaining long-established routines, which had always served as a small distraction and as a balm that managed to appease his turbulent feelings at least for a while. Sunday lunch was one of those traditions.

Behind her external appearance of a sweet and somewhat fragile person, Mary Margaret hid a fierce determination that led her to achieve almost everything she set out to do. So it did not matter how beaten Killian felt, how in need he was of drowning his sorrows in alcohol locked up in his apartment, if he was in town, he always felt obliged to make an appearance at those Sunday lunches. It wasn't going to be any different in Storybrooke, not when, despite the fact that they had been living far away for twenty-one years, they felt at home.

For that reason, on the Sunday after his first class, he was sitting in one of the booths of the Nolans' favorite cafe, with the couple sitting in front of him, both of them giving him expectant glances.

"So..." It was Mary Margaret the one who spoke first, "how was your first class?"

He was waiting for the question and, of course, he also had the answer ready. He was aware that his friends cared for him, but their constant vigilance and scrutiny sometimes made him feel uncomfortable. Past experiences had made him improve in the practice of hiding his true feelings. "It wasn't bad - the usual in these cases. It was an introductory class, basically." Killian commented in a nonchalant tone while shrugging.

"Any glimpse of hidden talent?" David asked, well aware that this was one of his priorities when teaching.

"It's still early for that, we'll see." As he spoke, the image of two green eyes with a defiant brightness crossed his mind. No. He shook his head subtly in an attempt to redirect his thoughts to another place. It was still early to assess whether Emma Swan had the talent he was looking for.

"At least, did you have a good time?" Mary Margaret gave him a warm smile as her hand reached for his and gave him an affectionate squeeze. "That's the only thing that really matters to us."

"It was interesting, and I'm fine, love, I promise." Killian assured, plastering on a tight smile. Then, his gaze focused on the menu as he tried to ignore the knot formed in the pit of his stomach and the hole in his heart. It did not matter how much his friends showed him both with their actions and their words that they really cared about him. He would always have a sense of almost constant failure, of not fulfilling the expectations deposited in him. But what burdened him the most was undoubtedly the feeling that they acted like this with him, possibly forced in a certain way by the legacy of his brother. While pretending to choose between the dishes on the menu he wondered if he would ever be able to shed that burden.

* * *

As strange as it seemed in a town as quiet as Storybrooke, the week went by relatively quickly and, before he knew it, Saturday had come and with it, a new class and the possibility of continuing to discover more about the enigmatic Emma Swan.

When he arrived in the classroom that day, all the students, including Emma herself, were already there, waiting for him. Killian could not help but glance at her as he raised one of his eyebrows in appreciation. Her lips drew a small smile in response as she held his gaze. If he felt a warm sensation running through his body he completely ignored it. Instead, he put on his swagger armor and his charming mask. He had work to do.

He had thought on a different approach for this second class. Since most of the students seemed to have little or no experience with complex cameras, he decided to dedicate the first hour of the class to chat with them in order to unravel what was really motivating them to be there, how they really felt in relation to the world of photography. Only from that knowledge could he offer them what they were looking for.

"Good morning, everyone." He greeted them using a friendly tone, getting some smiles and nods. "I thought it would be interesting for you to express yourself again during the first hour of class, to tell me what you really think about photography."

"Wasn't that what we did last week?" One of the men, Leroy, he thought, interrupted him abruptly, implying with both his sharp tone and his sullen expression, that he was not going to make it easy. Oh, but Killian liked a challenge.

"If I remember correctly, last week you told me why you decided to join the course. Today, my question is different, and since you were the first to express yourself, we'll start with you..." Killian looked at the tablet where he had the list of names while letting a tense silence hover over them. "...Mr. Grump." After another short pause in which he looked at the rest of the students to make sure he had their attention, he continued. "What do you think of photography, Leroy? Art or media? Or both?"

"Does that matter?" Leroy snorted as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat with a bored gesture.

He pressed his lips together into a thin line, in an attempt to hold back a retort. Thinking it over, he decided that, for the sake of the class, it was better if he slowed down Leroy's attempts to sabotage the classes before it was too late."Of course, it matters. Maybe you just signed up because you didn't have anything better to do on Saturday mornings, but..."

"Actually, he's here hiding from his brothers." Another man, —Will?—interrupted him, turning to Leroy with an amused expression.

"Shut up, Scarlet." Leroy growled. "We all know why you are here." He continued while smirking at him and pointing towards the door.

Just when he was going to intervene to put peace between the two men, someone got ahead of him. "Both." His gaze shifted to the direction of the sound to find Emma, who was giving him an intense look. Killian cocked his head and nodded slightly, in a silent invitation to continue. She seemed to catch the hint, because, after clearing her throat, she straightened in her seat and continued. "I mean, I consider photography both an art and a means of communication. You can think of photography as a channel to express an idea or tell a story or as a means of spreading information. I am interested in both."

To say that her little speech had left him impressed was the understatement of the century. His eyes widened slightly as he held her gaze, a strange feeling pulling at his stomach. It seemed increasingly clear that his first impression of Emma wasn't wrong. He sensed that those enigmatic green eyes hid behind an enormous potential and he was eager to begin to discover it.

His admiration was not only due to her words or her way of expressing herself (with a hint of the passion he also felt) but also because she had managed to capture the attention of the others - something he could not be more grateful for. A hum of agreement spread through the classroom as some heads turned toward her. He took the opportunity to encourage the rest to participate.

"Thanks for your input, Miss Swan." His lips drew a smile of appreciation. "It's always a pleasure to meet someone with as much passion for photography as myself." To his delight, her cheeks colored with a faint pink hue as she averted her gaze. "Does anyone else agree with her?"

From that moment on, an interesting debate began where everyone decided to participate by contributing with their point of view about the subject in question. He was a silent witness for a few minutes, clearly pleased by the way some of the students defended their positions, with fervor and determination, especially Emma, who seemed totally devoted to the cause, as if she wanted to prove something, either to herself or to him. He still was not sure about her intention, but if it was the latter, there was no doubt that she was getting it.

"Oh come on! Photography is just a trick. It only gives you a partial view of what really happens." Even Leroy had decided to participate despite his initial refusal. His comment caused an idea to pop into Killian's head. He grabbed his backpack and pulled out a folder that contained some photographs. He searched among them until he found the one he was looking for. A pang of guilt and frustration washed over him at that moment, but he clenched his jaw and forced himself to park those thoughts for another moment, later on when he was accompanied by the loneliness of his apartment and his best bottle of rum.

"Of course it offers a partial vision, like all means of communication." It was Emma who cut Leroy off as she rolled her eyes as if it were obvious. "Everything depends on the professionalism of the photographer, the veracity of the newspaper and the reader's capacity for understanding."

That was the moment he needed to approach the new subject. "Apologies for interrupting your eloquent speech, lass, but I'd like to contribute with something that may allow you to continue the debate." He passed the photograph to the closest person, Elsa. "I would like you to express what this photograph transmits to you."

After observing the picture for a few seconds, she commented in a soft voice, "The photo is beautiful, but overwhelming and bittersweet in a way." She then passed the picture to her sister.

"What a pretty girl! But what is that behind her? A ruined building? The girl is smiling, she is fine, isn't she?" Anna asked in a worried tone as she handed the picture to Archie.

The photo was passed from hand to hand while all the students expressed their opinion about it. There seemed to be a general agreement, valuing the bittersweet beauty of the image as everyone wondered what the real context of the picture was. Everyone except Leroy, who seemed to have a clear answer.

"I think that photo is just a failed attempt at manipulation. It's obvious that the photographer asked the girl to smile to show the world that what was happening behind her was not so serious." He snapped through a smug grin causing a sudden anger which crept up over Killian’s body, prickling at the back of his neck as his patience threatened to leave him indefinitely. Luckily, Emma came again to his rescue.

"Seriously, what's wrong with you, buddy?" Emma gave Leroy a reproachful look as she shook her head. "I think the little girl is smiling _despite_ the destruction behind her." She held his gaze then, with an expectant expression, as if she was waiting for some kind of confirmation.

The memory of that day, the moment he took the picture, came to his mind hitting him hard, while he wondered if it had been a good idea to risk his feelings being exposed to strangers in such a raw way. He swallowed hard in an attempt to drag away that feeling of continuous uneasiness that always accompanied him. After clearing his throat, he offered them the explanation they were waiting for.

"The photographer was covering a war conflict when he took that picture." He hoped his voice didn't shake. "Minutes after the sirens announced the end of the attack, he left the bomb shelter to take pictures and show the world its effects."

He paused for a moment to make sure he still held the attention of the audience. In fact, everyone was looking at him, their expressions a mixture of concern, interest and awe. "When the photographer found the girl, he asked her if he could take a picture. The girl nodded as she positioned herself in front of what he supposed had been her house - now just a pile of rubble. She smiled." His lips lifted slightly as he remembered that overwhelming moment, when he saw that genuine smile through the lens of his camera. "Surprised, the photographer asked her the reason for that smile. The girl just shrugged, ‘ _I'm happy because the end of the attack means one more day for us’_ , she said simply, before leaving and meeting with the rest of her family, all joining in a group hug."

After his explanation, a tense silence fell over the room. Everyone seemed moved by the story, Killian even detected some furtive tears sliding down some of the faces. Grouchy Leroy also showed a contrite expression. "The picture won some awards, being valued as the image of hope against destruction." He finished, while he felt as if a weight had been lifted from him.

Surprisingly, his veiled confession, far from digging a hole even deeper in his heart, had had a liberating effect on him. He felt for the first time in a long time how, despite the suffering and despair that always accompanied him, there would always be a ray of hope in the form of the pure and innocent smile of a little girl in the middle of nowhere.

"Can you teach us how to make those kinds of photos?" Ariel asked, clearly overwhelmed by the story, while the rest murmured in agreement.

"Of course, lass, that's what we're here for." Killian affirmed, while his heart hammered hard in his chest. That was what all he needed, the possibility of offering all his knowledge and putting them at the service of other people. Beyond the talent, if he managed to give them something, however minimal, everything would have been worth it.

The small talk served to break the ice, since from that moment and during the next hour of practice, everyone was more participatory than in the previous class, asking aspects about the best way to hold the camera or how they could make the necessary adjustments to improve the image. He was so involved with the students, that the last hour flew by. When he realized it, they were all picking up their things and saying goodbye until the following week. All except one person.

Emma waited until everyone else had left the room to approach his desk with hesitant steps. "That photographer in your story... it was you, right?" She asked, a shy smile tugging up the corner of her lips.

Killian raised an eyebrow at her as he tilted his head slightly. "You're quite perceptive, Swan, aren't you?"

"Well, you seemed to know the story too well." Emma teased back. Before continuing, she bit her lower lip, as if doubting what she would say next. "By the way, it's an impressive job, the light, the contrast, the message... Everything. Although I suppose that you already know, with all the awards and such."

"Believe me, any flattery about my work is well received." He winked at her — really?— causing her cheeks to turn pink. If his stomach started fluttering he ignored it completely. "Anyway, I'm glad the class was useful for you. You gave us quite the speech there, Swan." He wasn't flirting, was he? He was just being attentive, that was it. The fact that he was unable to tear his gaze away from her green eyes had nothing to do with it. Not at all. What kind of spell had this woman thrown at him?

"That guy, Leroy, was driving me crazy."

"But you handled him all too well, love."

"It's not the first time I've dealt with him. It's usual for him to burst into the town hall to pose various complaints or requirements of the _utmost_ _importance_." She made the gesture of quoting with both hands as she uttered the last two words and rolled her eyes, causing a chuckle to bubble up inside his chest.

"I'm fortunate then to have a savior in my class who will come to my rescue if I ever need it."

She snorted. "I think you can handle yourself well there."

After a pause, in which both held each other's eyes, Emma let out a deep sigh, breaking the spell that seemed to have fallen over them. "I should go. It's getting late." She did not move, though, her gaze remained pensive for a few seconds until she decided to speak again.

"You know, whenever I upload a photo to my Instagram account, I wonder if the lighting and the focus are right or if people will catch the meaning I intend to convey, so I hope these classes will help me improve."

"Food or landscapes?" The words slipped from his mouth without him even having time to assess what he was saying. But the mention of Instagram triggered something in him and he felt unable to stop himself.

"What?" Emma's eyebrows went together in an expression of confusion.

"Or maybe they're selfies showing how perfect your life is." His mouth decided to continue acting on its own, printing his words with a tone perhaps harsher than he intended. He was aware that his dislike towards Instagram was irrational, based merely on his personal circumstances and his own prejudices. But the mere idea of seeing those photos of perfect food, perfect landscapes and perfect smiles masked with hundreds of filters to hide mediocrity was almost nauseating.

Emma's features hardened, the glow in her eyes faded to give way to an unusual coldness. The utter disappointment was written all over her face. "You know what? Maybe it was a mistake to come here after all." Her voice charged with reproach caused Killian's stomach to twist in regret as he realized the terrible mistake he had inadvertently made.

"I... I don't ..." He tried to apologize, but was interrupted by Emma.

"No. Just don't." She held up a hand in warning. "I have to go."

Emma left the class without even giving him time to react, leaving him with a growing sense of guilt gripping his stomach. "Bloody hell..." He mumbled, letting out a heavy breath, as he dragged his hand down his face and rubbed at the scruff on his jaw.

Suddenly, the idea of Emma never coming back to classes seemed impossible to cope with, especially if the reason was his stupid comment based only upon his prejudices. It was evident that he had hit a nerve, that for some reason, she had been affected by his words.

After the initial shock, a pull of determination made him react, instigating him to do something - to try to fix it before it was too late. He hurried to collect all his belongings and left in the direction of the reception desk, trusting perhaps that Belle, the librarian and improvised secretary, could help him.

"Hey, Killian, how was your second class?" The librarian smiled when she saw him, while he took advantage of the moment to unfold all his charm.

"All good, love. I'd like to ask you a small favor, taking advantage of your kindness." The corners of his lips rose, drawing his trademark smile, while he paused for a moment, making sure he caught her attention.

"Sure, what can I do for you?" Belle offered through a friendly expression, showing her willingness to help. Before answering, he made a mental note to compensate her in some way.

"You wouldn't know by chance the name of Miss Swan's Instagram account, would you? She said something about it but I forgot to ask her."

Apparently, Belle didn't detect any meaning hidden under his request, because she answered normally, keeping her smile. "Sure, everyone knows her here." While talking, she reached for a notebook and began to write. "She's kind of a little celebrity in Storybrooke." Her words did nothing to lessen the pang of guilt that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He had to exercise a lot of self-control to stop himself from ripping the paper from her hands. Instead, he waited patiently for her to hand him the piece of paper while planting a fake smile on his face. _TheladySwan_. He suppressed a laugh at the obvious. It couldn't be otherwise.

"Thank you very much, Lady Belle." He bowed in acknowledgment. Before leaving, he remembered the files that the librarian kept, which contained the basic information of all the students. "One last thing, would you mind getting me the student files? I have to check some stuff."

When Killian left the building, he did so with a folder full of files under one arm and the piece of paper that contained the name of Emma's Instagram account burning inside his pocket. And a need to get to his apartment as soon as possible and discover a new piece in the enigma that was Emma Swan.

* * *

 

" _Bloody hell, she's good._ " The first thing Killian had done as soon as he got to his apartment was to turn on the laptop and search until he found her Instagram account. He came across multiple photographs. But not only photographs. She had the ability to transform each image into a small story full of sensitivity and delicacy, sensations that increased with the brief text that accompanied each picture.

He understood why she was considered a small celebrity in Storybrooke. Most of the photos were of the town, of its little corners, of the anonymous passers-by who walked through its streets, of the horizon that could be observed from the docks. She had achieved a style of her own, transforming simplicity into beauty. Like the photo of a small solitary flower standing out in the middle of a green field. Or a red balloon flying high free towards the blue sky. Or the one of a family taken from behind walking through the docks.

At the moment he saw one of her last photos, taken just before the beginning of the course, a twinge of guilt pricked his conscience. Almost without realizing it, he grabbed his phone and after a quick glance at Emma's file, he saved her number on his device and wrote a quick message while his heart hammered in his chest.

_I'd like to apologize for my previous, inappropriate comment. It was out of place and for that I'm sorry. Don't let my impertinence cut the wings of your talent. Because if there's something I'm sure of now, it's of your talent, Emma. KJ_  
  
He pressed the send button before he had time to think about it better. After staring at the screen for a few seconds, he decided to add an additional text, in case he hadn't been clear enough in the previous one.  
_  
_ _Just in case it wasn't clear, my previous text was only a poor attempt to ask you not to leave the classes. Not because of me. KJ_

The answer did not come immediately. In fact, it did not come at all. As time passed, his patience gradually faded. He paced up and down his living room, then made an unsuccessful attempt to entertain himself with television and even went to the kitchen to prepare a light lunch, leaving the phone in the living room. When he returned the result was the same. Zero notifications.

He resisted the urge to throw the phone against the wall and instead leaned against the back of the couch, letting out a deep sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. A sinking feeling settled low in his stomach while he cursed himself for his stupidity. If he didn't already have enough burden over his shoulders, he had decided to open his bloody mouth and offend a person he barely knew.

_So much for a fresh start..._ He thought bitterly, while the feeling of failure caused his heart to tighten. Suddenly the bottle of rum hidden on one of the shelves in the kitchen seemed too tempting. He had to get out of there before letting himself be overcome and falling into his old, harmful habits.

That was how he ended up a few minutes later, with his eternal-companion backpack hanging from his shoulder, his steps leading him towards the docks to seek the calming effect that the sea had always brought him. He hadn't even bothered to grab his phone, to prevent himself from checking for notifications every two minutes.

He never made it to the docks, though. Just as he was approaching, something caught his attention, making his heart skip a beat. A blond mane dancing to the rhythm of the sea breeze, its movements causing a hypnotizing effect, keeping him stuck there, unable to react.

It could be anyone, he tried to convince himself, without success. The woman's head moved slightly in an attempt to remove one of the strands of hair from her face and causing him to have a better image of her profile. Emma Swan's profile, who seemed to have had his same idea and was leaning on the railing, her sight lost somewhere on the horizon.

Cautiously, he sought refuge in the shadow of a nearby building, sufficiently hidden so as not to be discovered but allowing him to observe her profile in relative proximity.

He remained enraptured for a while, captivated by the intriguing beauty she gave off. Her face left a glimpse of a thousand sensations, anger, hurt, disappointment. Her lips pressed together, her gaze to the front, her shoulders slumped. A thunderous expression darkened Emma's features, as if the ocean, which now moved calmly, had transferred its habitual agitation to her.

At some point, acting on instinct, he might have opened his backpack to take out the camera because when he realized it, he was watching her through the lens of his camera. A rush of adrenaline run through his veins as he clutched the device fiercely and began shooting with a single purpose - capturing the moment.

Only later, when he walked home, did he realize the implications of his act, leaving him with a tingling sensation running through his veins while his head was spinning. On the one hand, he had committed a very debatable act - taking photos like a stalker, without the other person being aware. Very bad form. On the other hand, this had been the first time he had handled his camera using his prosthesis. And he hadn't even been aware of it. He’d acted on instinct, in the same way he had done so many times before. A feeling of vertigo seized him then. Maybe not everything was lost after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)
> 
> What to expect in the next chapter? While Emma decides whether or not to continue with the classes, she does her own research regarding Killian and receives from him a new motivation to keep learning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Emma decides whether or not to continue with the classes, she does her own research regarding Killian and receives from him a new motivation to keep learning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone for giving this story a chance. Thanks for your kudos, likes, reblogs and for your comments, they mean the world to me.
> 
> I'd like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta, Amy. I’m aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.
> 
> Go visit Kate's blog and enjoy her amazing art. I love the art that accompanies this chapter, with Emma and Killian practicing and that fall theme, very appropriate for the occasion.
> 
> Sara, thank you for everything.

# CHAPTER 3

#   

 

###  **Emma Swan. Storybrooke - November 11, 2017**

The ocean was calm today, in stark contrast to her inner turmoil. The flush of humiliation still burned her cheeks and a tempest of anger swirled in Emma’s gut. _Damned bastard..._

Maybe her reaction to his hurtful words had been too exaggerated. The armor she had raised around her heart should have prevented her from this. If she had learned something during all those years of solitude, it was to protect herself and not be affected by anything or anyone. She was a tough and strong woman, for God's sake!

 _It's this damn town,_ Emma thought bitterly. This last year had been full of discoveries: how to keep people around her, how to enjoy a steady job, and get the closest thing to a home she had ever had. All this had made her protective wall weaken, allowing people to enter inside, but in turn, making her vulnerable.

She felt like a little girl again. Old memories of humiliation, of not feeling enough, of not feeling valued, came to the surface, hitting her hard. The worst had not actually been his words, but rather his tone of disdain, as if in reality those kind of photos were an affront to him. And because she felt judged by something that was not even true.

 _Showing how perfect your life is._.. She let out a humorless laugh, while reflecting on how wrong he was. A bittersweet sensation settled in her stomach at the thought of how well the class had gone until then. She had greatly enjoyed both the initial debate and the practices that had taken place. Not to mention how impressed she was to see how talented Killian was. Too bad he screwed everything up with just a couple of out of line sentences.

A sigh of resignation slipped between her lips and, after one last look at the ocean, she turned and headed towards her apartment. She had felt so bad when she left the library that she had had to send a text to Ruby to cancel their plans for Saturday afternoon. With the urge to run away, she had even left her phone forgotten, so she rushed home, in case Regina had tried to contact her about a work-related issue.

When she got home, Emma found no messages from Regina but saw two notifications from an unknown number. She only needed a few seconds to find out who the number corresponded to, but what surprised her to the point that she almost dropped the phone was the content of the message.

She was aware that Killian had tried to apologize before, probably at the time when he had noticed her reaction to his words, but her need to run was more powerful than her curiosity to know how he would explain or justify his hurtful comments. She hadn't wanted to hear anything else, just to put as much distance as possible between him and her.

He had found a way to apologize, though. But what truly surprised Emma the most was not his apologies, but the recognition of her talent. Would he have been gossiping about her Instagram account to find out what kind of photos she actually shared? Why did he seem so interested in her not abandoning the course?

Her heart began to beat fast against her rib cage while she bit her lower lip, wondering how or if, she should respond to his messages. Should she accept his apology? Or was it more convenient if she tried to find out first the reason for his contempt for that particular social media, or rather for its content? Maybe she should thank him for his compliments? After letting out a deep exhale, she decided to send him a tentative first text to test the waters and respond according to his reply.

**_For the record, I don't share those kinds of photos. ES_ **

His response was almost immediate.

_I know. I do know now. KJ_

Just after receiving the text, she also received a notification.

_KJones has started following you._

Emma let out a snort as she rushed to open his profile, but to her disappointment, she found absolutely nothing. His followers counter was empty. And the counter of people he followed contained a solitary 1. No pictures and no descriptions. Only a simple _Killian Jones. Photographer._ Was it possible that he had created the account right at that moment? For her?

**_Did you just create your IG account? ES_ **

_Perhaps... KJ_

An involuntary laugh bubbled in the back of her throat when her phone went crazy. She kept receiving notifications of likes to her photos, as if KJones was compulsively pulsing the little heart that accompanied all her pictures.

**_Okay, buddy, if this is your way of apologizing, you don't need to continue, I accept it. ES_ **

_That's my way of appreciating talent, love. But, If you accept my apology, does it mean that you will continue with the classes? KJ_

Her cheeks flushed at Killian's new compliment. At least it seemed obvious that this guy had taken seriously the idea of making up for his previous behavior. She did not even want to consider that he really was being honest about her talent.

**_I'm afraid you're going to have to wait until next Saturday to find out, Jones. ES_ **

_Fair enough. I'll see you on Saturday then. KJ_

Only when Emma blocked the screen, ending her brief conversation with Killian, did she realize that she was smiling. Her inner turmoil had faded, probably due to the calming effect the sea always had on her, acting as a balm, but also because of this small talk with Killian, which had allowed them to approach positions again.

She could not deny it, from the moment she met him a week ago, she felt a connection to him, and an innate curiosity to know how a British, professional photographer and seemingly unshakeable war reporter, had ended up in the States, teaching photography to beginners.

Several questions began to gather in her mind - questions she was eager to get answers to - causing a need in her to know if he had experienced more bittersweet stories like the one he told them during class. Would he have lost his hand in one of those attacks? Would that be the reason why he was working as a teacher instead of covering news in some hidden place? Why he, being a photographer, seemed to feel so much contempt for a certain social media?

Maybe it was time to start her own investigation, the one she had refused to do before starting the course. Now seemed the most appropriate time for it, though. She grabbed her laptop and, without thinking twice, typed _Killian Jones Photographer_ looking for any news or information related to the enigmatic instructor who possessed the capacity to make her blood boil with anger, and only a few hours later, to make a warm sensation spread throughout her body.

What she found caused her breath to be trapped in her throat, while a sensation of horror, pity and even morbidness took over her, making her unable to look away from the screen while she moved the mouse in a frantic manner, her heart hammering in her chest.

 _The British photographer,_ Killian _Jones, falls wounded in an attack when a missile hit the ground despite the lifting of the curfew._

A _British reporter loses a hand in one of the bloodiest attacks since the war began._

_The British reporter, Killian Jones, was about to suffer the same fate as his brother, who died a few years ago victim of an attack suffered while covering one of the bloodiest conflicts in modern history._

_The professional photographer, Killian Jones, who was awarded a few months ago with one of the most important accolades in the world of journalism, has to retire prematurely at the height of his career after losing his hand in an attack perpetrated while he covered a war._

All the articles were dated two years ago. Two years. Her gaze wandered around the room, unable to continue reading, while an overwhelming sensation settled in the pit of her stomach as she tried to process all the information.

For some reason, she had created her own image of Killian Jones, a talented and intrepid photographer, who had experienced countless adventures while traveling the world in search of the news. The new information did not invalidate that preconceived idea, but it did add a depth to the character, making it more real in turn.

Now, instead of exotic places, Emma could only imagine cities engulfed in the dust of destruction. Instead of portraying people from other cultures, she only envisioned victims of unjust wars that only had people like Killian, those willing to risk their own lives to transmit to the world the agony of the most disadvantaged.

Emma could not even imagine the misery that would have befallen him as the victim of an attack that had taken not only his hand, but also the possibility of growth in his career, leaving him instead stuck in a town lost in Maine teaching a handful of people with a minimal interest in what he could offer them.

Perhaps that attitude of self-confidence, of determination and a certain arrogance, was nothing more than a mask that hid his suffering. Now that she thought about it, she had already glimpsed some hint of a lost look, or how he was trying to hide the prosthesis of his left arm from view.

On impulse, Emma grabbed her phone and slid her finger across the screen, looking for Killian's chat window, feeling a desire to send him a message. She resisted, though, because what was she going to tell him? _I'm sorry for the loss of your hand, or I'm sorry you were stuck here when you had a future ahead_... No, something told her that Killian wasn't going to take any of this well.

In an attempt to distract her mind, she focused on the gallery of images that she also found, which included several of his works as a war reporter, graphic proofs of an unjust world. During the next hour, she remained completely absorbed, unable to look away from the screen while observing the desolation captured in images, but also hope in the form of a smile, a reunion between survivors or a flower growing stoic in the middle of the chaos. All his photos had an aura of overwhelming beauty and most importantly, they served to tell the world the stories of these people who would otherwise remain forgotten.

Her admiration for Killian grew and at the same time, she felt sorry not only for Killian himself but also for these nameless people because these victims had lost one of the threads that kept them in contact with the rest of the world.

Another image caught her attention, causing her to hold her breath. It was the picture of a younger Killian, accompanied by another slightly older man, both with bright smiles while looking at the camera. The undeniable resemblance between them made Emma realize the identity of that man - Killian’s deceased brother.

 _He also lost his brother in another attack._.. for some reason, that information had gone unnoticed, but now that it came back to her memory she felt her heart tighten. _At least he had a brother... others haven't been so lucky_. Her inner demon reminded her bitterly.

Emma swallowed in an attempt to drag back those turbulent thoughts. Instead, she set a goal: get to know Killian Jones better, learn from his talent and make his stay here not a total waste of time. She had the equipment, her camera, and the whole weekend ahead to practice and make her instructor proud of her.

* * *

**_There is something in this photo that seems off, but I can't identify what it is. Could you help me there? ES_ **

Emma had been practicing all Sunday, wandering the streets of Storybrooke, camera in hand. Gradually, she became familiar with the controls of the device and had managed to lose the fear of making adjustments. However, as she was practicing, she also became more demanding with herself, being far from satisfied with the results.

For that reason, when she arrived home that afternoon, and after downloading the photos, she decided that it might be a good idea to seek advice from an expert in the field. That was the only reason. The fact that she had not been able to get the damned photographer out of her head all day had nothing to do with it. Not at all.

_I gather you've been practicing. That's good. KJ_

_About your photo, it's an acceptable work, although it can be improved. The image is a little out of focus and maybe too exposed. KJ_

_That means that the picture is terrible._.. Emma noticed how her cheeks blushed, feeling ridiculous and a little embarrassed. She was tempted to let it go, but her fingers decided to act on their own, because, without hardly realizing it, she had sent a new message. _Dammit!_

**_I tried to modify the settings, but it's clear that I've done a terrible job in that regard. ES_ **

_It's not lousy at all, Swan, only improvable. You already have something that others may not. Now you just need practice. KJ_

**_A complex camera? ES_ **

_Talent. KJ_

Another wave of flush burnt her cheeks while a warm sensation ran through her veins. Emma wondered if she would ever get used to Killian's words of appreciation. It was something so new to her that she felt her body betray her continually. Not even Henry's constant kindness had that effect on her.

_If you allow me, I'd like to give you a piece of advice. Light is our ally, use it for your benefit. Remember the two basic concepts, aperture and shutter speed. KJ_

_Too many technicalities.._. Emma tried not to let the frustration overtake her while holding her camera and trying to remember Killian's explanations from the first class. However, she barely had time to try the settings when her phone buzzed again.

_I've been thinking... Since it's quite complicated to teach you something through messages, what do you think if we meet one of these days to continue practicing? Consider it my way of compensating you for my impertinence from yesterday. KJ_

Emma's eyes widened, as she tried to ignore the butterflies that had begun to flutter hard in her stomach. Again, Killian stepped forward without even giving her time to type back a response.

_You wouldn’t have to pay for these extra classes, of course. KJ_

**_I'm sure you have more important things to do. I don't want to be any burden. Also, what would the other students say when they knew that I'm receiving privileged treatment? ES_ **

_We could consider it our little secret, love. KJ_

Her imagination began to play tricks on her, when an image of Killian winking at her popped into her head. She could almost hear the content of the text uttered with his accent and sexy tone of voice. _Oh, God!_ She seemed to have lost the ability to function properly and she hadn't yet started typing when her phone buzzed again.

_And worry not. In addition to your course, I only have another course scheduled with children. And I do collaborations for the local newspaper from time to time. Beyond that, I have plenty of free time, I assure you, Swan. KJ_

Emma dropped the phone on the couch while rubbing her face with her hands, uncertain whether it was a good idea to accept his proposal or not. If Killian had already found a way to get under her skin, she was not sure if it would be convenient to spend even more time with him. Without anyone else.

_Just look for a place that inspires you, and we'll get the best possible use from that camera of yours. KJ_

_Emma, what's wrong with you? Is not that what you wanted? To learn to make good photographs?_ This guy was offering the opportunity, she should take advantage of it. _Fuck,_ she was going to do it. To hell with the consequences.

**_I’m free on Tuesday afternoon. See you at the docks at 5? ES_ **

_I will be there. KJ_

* * *

"Damn camera!" Emma muttered, growing frustrated after several failed attempts to make the necessary adjustments to the device. She had gone a little earlier to the docks, thinking that maybe, by the time Killian arrived, she could show him some pretty decent pictures. What a fool!

Not only did she still not handle well all of these technicalities and controls but that day, a powerful wind was blowing through the docks, making it even harder to keep the camera stable. Maybe this hadn't been a good idea, after all, Emma thought, after letting out a soft groan of annoyance as she pressed, perhaps too forcefully, the delete button removing another failed attempt. Maybe she should settle for the photos taken with her cell phone, something she could handle, and leave the damn camera and all its controls to the experts.

"Whatever the affront caused by the camera, we can fix it."

Emma flinched, almost dropping the camera, surprised to hear Killian's voice. She had been so focused that she had lost track of time. She felt a flush creeping up her neck before even turning her head.

"I was just..." She gestured to the camera while offering a weak smile, feeling a bit out of place with the camera hanging from her neck while trying to tame her rebellious hair from dancing to the rhythm of the wind. Thankfully, she had decided on a ponytail before leaving the office. "...Never mind, maybe this is not the best idea after all, with all this wind." While talking, she swiped some loose strands of hair from her face and tucked them behind her ear.

"On the contrary, love, that will make the practice even more interesting, more challenging." He grinned as he arched one of his eyebrows, teasing her. It was then when Emma dared to look at him - really look at him - and take her time to study his features.

He was a very handsome guy, of that there was no doubt, dressed in all black and leather that gave him a rebellious and mysterious look. He also seemed somewhat more relaxed than in the classes, his shoulders less tense, his smile more genuine. But now that she knew part of his backstory, she couldn't help losing herself for a moment in his very blue eyes, as she wondered how much desolation they had witnessed or if his small lines of expression were due only to the passage of time or they had accentuated due to suffering.

Emma shook her head in an attempt to make these thoughts disappear. She didn't even know him. Maybe the losses he had suffered hadn't made him a tormented person as she imagined. Maybe he had managed to handle suffering well or had been able to move on. But she was good at studying people and unfortunately, she was almost certain that her intuition was correct.

Her gaze drifted for a moment to his left arm, which remained half hidden behind his back. One more bit of proof that at least in that regard, he did not seem to be taking it very well.

"Why are you doing this?" She snapped, her voice harsher than she intended, but social skills were not her forte and, although she had improved a lot over the course of this year, she was still trying to figure out how to act around other people after so many years being an almost antisocial person.

Before answering, he tilted his head, tongue peeking out to the corner of his mouth, as he observed her through his narrowed eyes, as if he were also studying her. "I already told you, Swan. You have talent, and it turns out that I have a special ability to not only detect but exploit the hidden potential."

"Do you really believe it?" She asked, not proud of the slight hint of longing in her voice.

"I do." He answered with determination, his eyes boring into hers. Her breath caught in her throat, while she remained enraptured, holding his gaze.

A strong gust of wind wobbled her hair again, causing the spell between them to finally break. Emma then turned her gaze slightly to her camera as she raised the hand holding the device. "Where do we start then?"

"We're going to work on two related topics: the posture and our surroundings." He waved his hand in front of him, as if making a gesture to encompass everything around them. "It's important to make the most of the resources we have at our disposal and, to fight against the wind, we need to get the proper position to avoid moving the camera more than necessary."

He approached her, invading her personal space, while her heart thudded in her chest. "May I...?" He asked in a gentle cadence as he pointed at the camera. In response, Emma smiled weakly while offering a timid nod.

He stood behind her then and began guiding her, muttering instructions against her ear, hot puffs of air sending goosebumps down her skin. A slight dizziness came over her, in awareness of his proximity, but she tried to ignore all those sensations dancing inside while concentrating on his explanations. And she was successful. _For fifteen seconds_. At some point, he placed his hand over hers to show her how she should grab the camera, causing a chill to run down her spine. The bastard did not seem to notice, since he continued to mutter instructions while guiding all her movements.

Just as she began to get used to the gentle touch of his hand against hers, a gust of wind hit them again. Killian squeezed the grip on her hand as he instinctively placed his prosthesis on her waist, in an attempt to keep her steady. She flinched involuntarily, surprised by the contact, but Killian must have had the wrong impression because he pulled away from her instantly.

"Apologies." He muttered, sounding mortified, all his bravado faded away as he stared at the toes of his boots instead of her face.

Emma frowned, trying to process what had just happened while a disturbing thought crossed her mind. Was it possible that he thought her reaction had been caused because he had touched her with his prosthesis? A wave of annoyance washed over her as she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her inner turmoil.

She did her best to stifle the hurt she felt at Killian’s reaction. "Look, buddy, if you think I'm ashamed or disgusted with your prosthesis... Just stop it. I didn't expect the touch, that's all. How can you think so little about me?"

"It's not about you, Swan, it's about me." He muttered under his breath, avoiding her gaze, a twitching muscle in his jaw betraying his tension.

Emma crossed her arms over her chest and raised her brows in defiance. "Would you be ashamed if it was me who had the prosthesis?"  
  
"What? Of course not!!" His expression turned into a grimace of horror.

"So, what's the difference?" For an answer, Killian sighed, his eyes casting down to the floor, causing her to almost lose patience. This situation had caught her so unprepared that she wasn't sure how to handle it. "Listen, what happened to you... it wasn’t your fault, Killian."

This time Killian did react to her words, finally raising his eyes to her. She had to suppress a gasp when she met a thunderous look. "How do you know that?" He hissed as his features hardened.

"You do your research, I do mine." Emma shrugged, holding his gaze, not letting herself be intimidated by his coldness as she was increasingly aware that his attitude was no more than a defense mechanism.

An idea passed through her mind at that moment. She acted quickly, before she regretted it, rolling up the sleeve covering her right arm, exposing skin marked with an ugly scar, a continuous reminder of her time in the foster system. Killian's eyes widened as they traveled from her wounded skin to her face, his features softened instantly, while a shadow of sympathy crossed his gaze.

"Look, let's say we both have quite the backstory, and something tells me that there are even more physical or metaphoric wounds. Maybe someday, when we get to know each other better, we'll be able to share some of our ghosts from the past, but for now, what if we just ignore what happened before?" Emma offered, the corners of her lips drawing the attempt of a faint smile.

A milliard of sensations seemed to cross his gaze while she held her breath, her stomach tightening into knots. The wind roaring in her ears did not help to calm her agitation. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he nodded subtly. "Aye, Swan, I'd like that." His lips drew a tight smile. "I'd like to get to know you better." He added as he scratched behind his ear in a gesture that she found a little too adorable, given the circumstances.

They stayed that way for a few seconds, looking at each other while the wind danced around them. The spell did not break until something caught Emma's attention, Killian's backpack on a nearby bench. "Do you have your camera there?" Her chin pointed toward the backpack. When he nodded, she continued. "Would you mind giving me a demonstration so I can imitate all your movements?" Emma suggested trusting that Killian would not detect the hidden meaning of her request.

He looked reluctant at first, but after a few seconds, he nodded again and pulled the camera out. She didn't lose detail about how he managed to handle the device both with his prosthesis acting as support, and with his hand, the one exerting the grip and making the necessary adjustments.

She had wanted to prove a point with this whole exercise. His initial hesitant movements showed that she was right as it seemed that he had barely practiced with his camera and his prosthesis. A strange sensation settled in the pit of her stomach as she felt a tug of determination. If he was willing to share all his knowledge with her, she was going to do everything possible in return to help him overcome the feeling of rejection that he seemed to experience towards his prosthesis.

As they took pictures, the initial tension between them faded away until only a small vestige remained. Emma tried to imitate all his movements while listening attentively to his explanations. After several shots, both shared the results. His photos infinitely better than hers, of course.

"How is it possible?" She mumbled, feigning annoyance. "We're almost in the same position. I've used the same settings as you, the angle is the same. How is it possible that your pictures as much better than mine? They're not even comparable."

Killian chuckled at her side. The sound was like music to her ears after the previous tense moments. "Maybe my camera is better than yours, Swan." He handed her his device. "You wanna try?"

They continued that way, taking pictures to the horizon, to the boats moored in the piers, even at some point he pointed the camera towards her. "It never hurts to practice portraits." It was all the explanation he gave her as he shrugged.

To her surprise, she did not mind in the slightest to pose for him, since the camera acted as a kind of barrier, allowing her to act naturally by not having to face the direct scrutiny of his eyes.

Time flew by, with them hardly noticing, while a soft gloom began to surround them. But the incipient arrival of darkness, far from intimidating them, only served as an excuse to continue taking pictures. "It's a challenge to take photos with little or no light, love. Let’s try." She obliged, of course.

Emma would have continued longer, but as the darkness grew thicker, there was also a drastic drop in temperatures. "You're shivering, Swan. I think it's better if we call it a night." His tone of concern had the power to send a warm feeling through her body, despite the cold of the night.

An awkward silence fell over them while both seemed reluctant to leave. However, a new chill ran through her body, causing Killian to react instinctively, approaching her and rubbing her arms both with his hand and with his prosthesis in an attempt to warm her.

She searched his gaze as she felt the butterflies of her stomach flutter furiously. "Thanks, Killian, for everything." She breathed, the corners of her lips pulling into a sincere smile. A million thoughts crossed her mind, while she felt his touch burning her skin despite several layers of clothes.

His eyes went slightly wide when he seemed to realize what he was doing, but this time, far from jumping and getting away from her, he exerted a little more pressure, gently squeezing her arms and getting her heart to beat even faster. His gaze then drifted to her lips and in an instant that seemed eternal, she felt as if everything was possible, her whole body humming in anticipation.

To her disappointment, the moment passed without anything else happening. His gaze traveled one last time from her eyes to her lips until he finally pulled away a little. He blinked and took a shuddering breath before asking in a slightly rough voice, "See you on Saturday?"

Emma remembered the conversation they had had through texts a few days ago, feeling a bit amazed at how her feelings could change so drastically in just a few days. "Maybe..." She teased as she bit her lower lip in an attempt to lighten the tension, and trusting him to remember it too.

"See you on Saturday." He stated firmly, while flashing her a roguish smirk, causing a laugh to come bubbling up from her chest. "That's a beautiful sound, Swan. Don't let anything or anyone try to suppress it." After giving her one last smile and an enigmatic look, he walked away, losing himself in the darkness of the night, leaving Emma in the middle of the docks, a mixture of feelings spreading all over her body as she tried to process everything that had just happened and the meaning of his words.

* * *

"Aren't you smiling more than usual today?" The moment Emma heard Ruby's comment, her lips pressed together into a thin line, in an (failed) attempt to stop that smile.

"I've got up in a good mood, that's all." Emma answered with a dismissive wave of her hand.

And it was true. She had woken up that morning with a feeling of unusual contentment after a long night of restful sleep. The multitude of sensations that she had experienced the previous day had taken its toll on her, making her feel so tired that she had fallen fast asleep the moment her head had hit her pillow.

Her good mood had accompanied her throughout the day at the office, helping her to better face the impertinences of her boss. That warm feeling had become even more pronounced once her working day was over — she could hardly consider a job taking care of Regina's son —  while enjoying the company of Henry, her favorite person, and waiting for her favorite waiter to serve her favorite meal in one of her favorite places in Storybrooke.

"Whatever you say, but I’m pretty sure that certain hottie Brit has something to do with that good mood of yours." Ruby's eyebrows danced suggestively as Henry giggled at her side. "How was your date?" She added through a wicked smile.

Before Emma could answer, the third party of the group, Sheriff Graham, made an appearance, approaching the booth they were occupying. "Did you go on a date?" He asked before even sitting in front of her.

Emma ignored the hint of disappointment that crossed his face and rolled her eyes instead. "It was not a date, we were just practicing. With the camera." She clarified anticipating any blatant thoughts that might go through her friend's mind. "And now, I'm hungry, could you...?"

"You went out with the instructor?" Graham, who didn't seem to have caught the hint, cut her off before she could divert attention. The glimpse of disappointment had disappeared from his face, to her relief. Now his expression was a mixture of amusement and surprise.

"We have quite the trope here. The teacher-student stuff is one of my favorites."

"Ruby!" Emma hissed, tilting her head in what she hoped was a subtle gesture, as she pointed to Henry at her side.

The kid did not seem scandalized though, rather the contrary. "Maybe we should look for a name for the operation. What do you think of Operation Photo-Swan?"

 _Seriously?_ She groaned inwardly.

"Yeah!" Ruby yelled while lifting her hand to Henry's for a high five.

Emma raised her eyes to the ceiling while suppressing the urge to bury her head in her hands, mortified as she thought of what kind of punishment Regina would inflict on her if she found out that her son was not only involved, but also had played an important role in these types of conversations.

Luckily, Granny came to her rescue, placing a delicious grilled cheese sandwich in front of her while scolding her granddaughter for wasting time when there was so much work to be done. Before going back behind the bar though, Granny winked at both her and Henry, making Henry's laughter grow louder as a new sensation, a mixture of mortification and some amusement, took over her. _At what point had her life become a rom-com?_

Emma ignored those feelings and decided to focus on her food. The delicious aroma penetrated her nostrils making her mouth water. When she was about to take a bite though, the sight of the food made her think, inexplicably, of a certain instructor. Before she could process what she was doing, she pulled out her cell phone and took a picture of the grilled cheese, sending it to Killian along with a text.

**_Just for the record. I don't intend to publish it on Instagram. But doesn't it look delicious? ES_ **

She hadn't had time to leave the phone on the table when it started buzzing. __  
__  
_It certainly does, love. Bon Appetit. KJ_ __  
__  
**_At some point, you'll have to tell me the reason for your aversion to that social media, Jones. ES_ ** __  
  
When you tell me why all your photos have a halo of melancholy. KJ

The smile she wore faltered on her lips, but she stopped whatever dark thoughts threatened to appear, unwilling to let anything ruin the moment.

**_Even this one? ES_ **

_No. This one is an exception. KJ_

**_Good. ES_ **

"Isn't it adorable? You're already in the _'sharing text messages ignoring what's around you'_ phase." Ruby teased, a giant smirk splitting her face.

Emma rolled her eyes, a snarky retort dying on her tongue the moment something caught her attention. The Nolans had just entered the room and were heading to the counter. A sudden interest in the couple grew inside her, when she recalled a previous conversation with Ruby, when she caught her up on the latest Storybrooke gossip.

Apparently, the couple, he, the director of the local newspaper, and she, a teacher in the town school, had returned to Storybrooke after many years living in London. But what had really caught Emma's interest was knowing that these people were Killian's best friends, the people closest to him. According to the rumors, they were the reason why Killian had ended up here, following in the footsteps of his friends.

Just then the man —David, she thought it was his name — looked in her direction. When their gazes meet, he nodded slightly in greeting, his lips drawing a warm smile.

She had already met with them on occasion. Storybrooke was a small town after all, but their encounters, though polite, had been brief, sharing only a handful of words. Now, she found herself wanting to know more about them and, above all, about the history that would explain why two people, apparently quite older than him, had such a close relationship with the photography instructor.

 _Damned bastard!_ He had gotten under her skin in such a way that now almost all her thoughts were occupied with him. Emma made a mental note to stop this escalation of feelings before it was too late. Maybe not seeing him before Saturday would help. Or maybe not.

* * *

It turned out that not seeing Killian during these days had only increased her need to keep contact with him. For that reason, when he arrived at the class on Saturday, she was already there. To her delight, the first thing he did as soon as he entered was to scan the room as if he were looking for something. The brilliant smile that appeared on his face when his gaze met hers had the ability to take her breath away, causing her to almost melt in her seat as the butterflies in her stomach fluttered hard. It seemed evident that her interest in photography classes had acquired a new and exciting dimension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)
> 
> What to expect from the next chapter? We will know a bit more about the Nolans and the reason why they returned to Storybrooke. And Emma and Killian continue to get to know each other while sharing pieces of their pasts and... maybe something else.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We will know a bit more about the Nolans and the reason why they returned to Storybrooke. And Emma and Killian continue to get to know each other while sharing pieces of their pasts and… maybe something else. I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I hope you like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone for giving this story a chance. Thanks for your kudos, likes, reblogs and for your comments, they mean the world to me.
> 
> I'd like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta, Amy. I’m aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.
> 
> Go visit Kate's blog and enjoy her amazing art. I love the art that accompanies this chapter, with that reddish halo... for reasons. Also, this photoset also serves for the next chapter. (I'm including it at the end because it's a bit spoilery)
> 
> Sara, thank you for everything.

# CHAPTER 4

###  **David Nolan. London, ten months ago**

That day had dawned like any other. David had followed his established routines, gone to work at the newspaper, had lunch with Killian — actually lunch was just an excuse to take his friend away from his own miseries for a while at least — and finally, got home to spend the rest of the day with his wife.

What David could never have imagined when he woke up that morning was that his life was going to be shaken, that a radical change that he had not waited for had already begun to take shape. And it all started, once again, with a phone call.

Maybe it was intuition or anticipation. The truth was that when he came through the door that day, a strange sensation seized him, causing his stomach to tighten and urging him to go find Mary Margaret.

His suspicions became more intense when he found his wife in the middle of their living room, holding the phone against her chest with both hands, her gaze absent, her face pale.

He stopped short, while all the air left his lungs and a lump formed in his throat, preventing him from emitting any words. His mind began to imagine horrible scenarios, with Killian in the role of the main character in most cases — _Old habits die hard_. _But_ _it can't be_ , he told himself in an attempt to suppress those paralyzing thoughts. _He is here, safe and sound. No more danger stalking him._

When she realized his presence her eyes sought his _._ "It was Regina..." Mary Margaret's voice trailed off as her gaze seemed lost again, as if she was still trying to process the information obtained.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his mind having trouble identifying the name in the first place. The memories began to come gradually though, making his features harden as old demons from the past threatened to surface.

"Regina... She's found her, David. It seems that she found her way back." Mary Margaret continued with a tiny voice, almost a whisper, but this time with a different shade, loaded with something similar to hope. He was still processing her words when her eyes sought his again. And that's when he knew it.

A myriad of questions swarmed in his mind, as different sensations danced inside him and his head began to spin to such an extent that he had to lean on a nearby piece of furniture, his legs suddenly too weak to support him. "We have to go back." He managed to mutter as he felt, for the first time in twenty-seven years, the hole in his heart becoming less deep, filled instead with a hope he had never dared to express out loud. "We have to go back." He repeated, this time with more emphasis.

It was then that his wife rushed towards him, burying her head in his chest and emitting a broken sob. As David wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, a new thought crossed his mind. They could not leave Killian here. Not now, when he was still struggling to recover. They had to find a way to convince him to accompany them. There was no longer anything or anyone to tie him to London. Maybe the time had come for a new beginning, a fresh start, for all of them. Perhaps returning to Storybrooke also meant that they would finally reach that promising future it had been denied to them so many times before.

* * *

 

###  **David Nolan. Storybrooke - November 21, 2017**

It was a sunny and bright day, unusual for the end of November and despite the fact that the sun had already started its descent, anticipating his farewell until the next day. Those were the thoughts of David Nolan as he walked through the streets of Storybrooke, a permanent smile pulling at his lips.

It was as if that black cloud that had hovered over them from the moment they knew the sad reality, making their days more somber, had decided to give them a break in the form of a beautiful day that encouraged walking despite the almost wintry cold, the rays of the sun acting like little rays of hope traveling directly to his heart.

Even though he had not expected such a scenario when they both decided to return, he would never regret having made that decision, not when it felt so right to come back home, to the place where they had experienced their best and also their worst moments.

By the time they had crossed the road after passing the welcome sign, a warm feeling had invaded his body, as a reminder that they were coming home.

That feeling not only had not changed four months later, but had intensified. Walking through the same streets where they had grown up, chatting with those who had been their neighbors for years, brought back old memories that he thought were forgotten. While visiting the old places for which time seemed to have not passed, he maintained a state of certain calm, which at least served to compensate for the huge weight of guilt that had fallen upon them the moment they discovered the truth...

The sound of voices brought him back to reality. David turned his head in the direction of the sounds and what he found made him stop in his tracks in the middle of the street, while his heart beat hard against his chest.

She was there, right in front of him, sitting in one of Granny's patio chairs. And there was someone else accompanying her - his friend Killian Jones.

David narrowed his eyes, watching them carefully as he moved discreetly with the goal of remaining half-hidden. He should not be surprised to see them together, he thought, trying to convince himself. Killian had barely given explanations about the development of the course, but David knew that she was attending. Something did not quite fit though, since today was Tuesday and classes were held on Saturdays. Damn Killian and his stubbornness to keep things to himself! When would he realize that they were there to help? That they really cared about him as a member of their family?

Suddenly all his bad thoughts vanished when something caught his attention, causing him to almost have to suppress a gasp of surprise. Killian's features lit up, his lips drawing a genuine smile, directed at her. Something that, unfortunately, David barely remembered witnessing, after so many years of at best, fake smiles or no smile at all.

The angle he was in did not allow him to see her features and he had no intention of moving to avoid revealing his position. Only a glimpse of her profile was in sight as well as her golden hair, something he had learned to recognize from the distance during these four months. Maybe it was just hope or maybe intuition, but he felt a tug in his stomach, trying to convince him that her expression would probably match the one of his friend.

The day became even brighter, the sunlight on its descent causing his friend's eyes to shine in a special way as David's heart began to flutter with the closest thing to hope that he had felt from the moment that they left London. In spite of the guilt, of their perpetual regret and the huge hole in his heart, it seemed that all was not lost after all. Maybe fate had decided that two of the most important people in his life had crossed paths. Maybe they could help heal each other. Maybe he and his wife could still be forgiven when the time to confess came.

After one last look at the scene before him, David turned around in the direction of his apartment. He could not wait to tell Mary Margaret the news. Knowing his wife, he was sure that this information would serve to alleviate the perpetual pain that she had experienced at that moment when they both had discovered the truth.

* * *

 

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke - November 21, 2017**

"So, did I get my pass in the close-ups and gastronomic photography test, professor?"

The way Emma asked, half-mocking as she uttered the last word, half-flirting disguised in the cadence of her voice, did a strange thing in Killian's heart. He quickly ignored it and focused instead on the way the sun's rays bathed Emma's skin in their descent, giving her a special aura, as if she herself glowed. No, that definitely did not help.

"I reserve my opinion for when I have checked the results on a somewhat larger screen, love." He pointed to the camera on the table that separated them. "But I think I can anticipate that the result will be quite satisfactory." He almost purred the words. Two could play this kind of flirting game. And if the faint pink color that adorned her cheeks was any indication, it seemed that Emma wasn't going to go through this unaffected.

Something had changed since last Tuesday, it was evident. He had not yet been able —or had not dared— to discern what had been the reason for that change between them. Maybe her acceptance of his prosthesis, her desire to learn, the glimpses she had dropped on her past. Maybe it had been the way her hair had moved with the rhythm of the wind, generating a hypnotic dance that had made him unable to look away. Maybe it had been the special glint in her eyes, the fierceness of her features while she had tried, and succeeded in most cases, to put into practice what he had taught her.

Killian felt more and more connected to her, bewitched in some way by her beauty, attracted by her indisputable hidden potential, eager to bring it up, but above all, determined to know those little secrets - the experiences that she had experienced and had molded her into the most interesting and enigmatic person that had crossed him in a long, long time.

Perhaps, for this reason, he did not resign himself to having their meetings happen only once a week, surrounded by other people. Instead, he decided to add a new routine to his schedule, assigning Tuesdays to continue with additional classes for her, provided she was willing, of course. To his relief, she had accepted without a hint of doubt.

The grilled cheese's picture she had sent him a few days ago was the trigger for the idea that began to set in his mind. He just needed an excuse and if he had to resort to photos of food, so be it. It was how they had finished that Tuesday at Granny's, doing close-up practices of the different foods served by an amused waitress, Ruby, who turned out to be not only Emma's friend, but the person who had gifted her the course, something he would be eternally grateful for.

While they shared a hot coffee once the practice ended, Killian realized something he had not thought about until then. There was a concrete reason why he was enjoying these classes so much. That reason was not only because he seemed to have found the talent hidden in the person of Emma Swan. Nor that he was somehow captivated by her beauty or her personality. The real reason he looked forward to these meetings was that, during these hours, he allowed himself to forget, to pretend that his life was simple and quiet, that there were no demons tormenting him, that the darkness had not taken over almost the entirety of his thoughts and his heart. For a few hours a week, he felt lighter, more optimistic, as he absorbed the rays of hope emitted by Emma in the form of a smile, a look or a good photograph.

He was aware that these moments were nothing but a mirage, a small oasis in the middle of the arid desert his soul had been transformed into long ago. He knew that when he returned to the solitude of his apartment, he would feel again the weight of the world on his shoulders. But at least during those moments, he allowed himself to dream about the possibility of a not so dark future.

"I know you Brits don't celebrate it, but do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?" Her question brought him back, driving him away from those troubled thoughts. Instead, his mind traveled to London, his lips drawing a longing smile.

"On the contrary, love, I'm quite familiar with that celebration."

"Oh." Her eyes widened slightly in surprise as her gaze held his, as if she was waiting for an explanation.

A warm feeling ran through his veins to his heart as a myriad of memories crowded his head. Even though it had been almost twenty years, he could still sense the aroma that came from the Nolans' kitchen that first time he and his brother were invited to celebrate that festivity.

That had been the first of many celebrations, the four of them together against the world. Killian had to blink a couple of times, his eyes stinging, suddenly overwhelmed by memories and sensations. Even after, when everything had gone to hell, his friends always managed to count on him on that special occasion, although he had nothing to be grateful for anymore.

Emma must have detected his condition because her features softened, a shadow of something similar to understanding crossed her gaze. She remained expectant, so he felt the need to offer some explanation. Before answering though, he had to swallow the lump formed in his throat. "My friends, the Nolans. They are Americans and let's say they dragged us into this tradition of yours."

"At least one of us has been fortunate in that regard." Her voice came in a murmur so faint that Killian thought for a moment he had imagined the words. His eyes narrowed as he studied her features for some hint, but Emma suddenly seemed very interested in the contents of her mug, her hair covering part of her face.

Her apparent involuntary confession, far from intimidating him, caused his curiosity to increase, as well as an innate protective instinct towards her, despite her appearance of a strong and tough woman. Killian clenched his jaw and ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to stop his urge to curl it into a fist while he wondered, not for the first time, what Emma was hiding behind that mask of determination. Before he could inquire though, she continued talking.

"I've been invited to Granny's." She gestured to the place in front. "Ruby told me that they make a special dinner that day for... for people like me." Her lips curled into a tiny smile that didn't reach her eyes. "It will be fun." She assured, although it seemed that she was trying to convince herself.

 _For people like me_... The realization behind the meaning of her words hit him hard. People away from their family? Or rather without family at all? "I don't doubt it, love. Something tells me that any party that Ruby attends will be quite an event. Also, you can practice social photographs, aye?" Killian suggested, in an attempt to relieve the tension that seemed to have fallen on her shoulders. He knew from experience that it was not convenient to push on these occasions and they barely knew each other yet.

"Do you always keep photography in mind?" She teased with an arched brow, clearly relieved by the change of subject.  
  
"Not always, love. Sometimes I sleep." He replied through a grin, earning a giggle on her part. A beautiful sound, he thought, matching her beautiful features once the tension disappeared from her face. A small vestige remained in her eyes though, like a halo of sadness that made them look dangerously like the gaze that the mirror returned every time he looked at his reflection.  
  
A lost girl. He was now sure of that. The need to know more about Emma increased. But that would have to wait until the following week because, due to the Thanksgiving holiday, he would not teach classes this Saturday. Suddenly, the idea of spending a whole week without seeing those enigmatic green eyes and hearing her suggestive voice didn't seem appealing at all.

* * *

 

_How was the party at Granny's, love? KJ_

**_Ask me tomorrow, when I have recovered from the hangover. ES_ **

_No Black Friday, then? KJ_

**_Don't tell me that the Nolans have also taught you that tradition. ES_ **

_No, that's the fault of your movies. KJ_

**_How was your dinner, by the way? ES_ **

_Conventional, I suppose. Good food and good company. KJ_

**_Turkey? ES_ **

_Turkey. KJ_

_Since we are talking about Thanksgiving I'd like to make a suggestion. KJ_

**_I'm listening, or reading, whatever... ES_ **

_There will be no classes tomorrow but I'd like to show you something that I think you will appreciate. KJ_

**_Photography related? ES_ **

_Always. KJ_

**_Okay. ES_ **

_Good. See you on Saturday, in my apartment. I'll send you the address. KJ_

* * *

"May I come in?"

"Sure."

Killian realized that he had been frozen in the hall of his apartment maybe longer than necessary. He shook his head slightly and stepped aside so Emma could enter.

He still couldn't believe not only that Emma had accepted, but that he had made the offer in the first place. In his defense, it had been an improvised decision. While he had been chatting with Emma the day before, he had noticed his collection of cameras which were placed on a shelf in a privileged place in his living room. Killian had wondered what Emma's reaction would be if she saw those devices. And just like that, his fingers had begun to slide across the screen, offering the proposal to her.

"As you can see, it's a really small place." He commented while making a gesture encompassing the entire room in an attempt to break the ice.

"It's fine. My apartment is even smaller." Emma shrugged, offering him a shy smile. It seemed obvious that he was not the only nervous person in this awkward situation. Maybe that shouldn't be a relief, but in his case, it served to loosen a bit the nerves that had gripped his stomach.

"May I?" He asked, pointing to her jacket. She nodded as she took off it and handed it to him. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back in a second." Killian hung the jacket on the rack near the front door and headed toward the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink? Beer, coffee, tea?"

"A beer is fine, thank you."

Once in the momentary shelter of his kitchen, Killian forced himself to take two deep breaths as he took a long sip of his beer in an attempt to appease his nerves - or gain enough confidence to not behave like a complete fool in front of her.

The butterflies he had begun to feel in his stomach every time she was in his presence were not going to make it easy for him - that was obvious. From the moment the bell had rung, they had begun to flap furiously as he wondered if it had really been a good idea to invite Emma to his apartment.

He had only known her for three weeks, but that time had been enough for her to get under his skin in such a way as to make him unable to think of anything other than her and how he could help her enhance her talent.

At least the excuse of photography always existed between them, although he was fully aware that he was entering hazardous waters - and he was in danger of sinking beyond repair. The question was, was he willing to take the risk given all the demons that he was already carrying? He did not even have the courage to consider an answer.

After taking another swig of his beer, hoping that the bitter liquid would sweep away all his worries, he headed back to the living room, schooling his features so as not to betray his nervousness.

Kilian found Emma still standing, looking at some of the photos that were hanging on the wall. The moment she felt his presence, she turned around, searching his gaze.

"Have you brought all these photos from London?" She asked as she accepted the beer and brought the bottle to her mouth.

"Eh, no." Killian scratched behind his ear, as he put all his effort into diverting his gaze from her lips. "My friends chose the apartment and they even took care of the decoration. When I arrived, I just had to unpack." Mary Margaret had even filled the refrigerator and cupboards, turning an empty apartment into a place with a certain soul, he recalled as a wave of gratitude towards his friends washed over him.

"But you are the one who took the pictures, aren't you?" There was a special glow in her eyes, perhaps admiration? Killian wasn't sure.

"Aye."

Indeed, he had made all those photographs. David and Mary Margaret had been careful enough to choose them, making sure that there was no trace of desolation or sadness in them, just positivity, good memories and a hint of longing.

There were some black and white portraits that he had taken some time ago of his friends and even some self-portraits. David had also hung a couple of landscape photos that Killian had taken in his hometown, the place where, despite the abandonment and suffering he and Liam had endured, they had lived their childhoods, generating unforgettable family memories.

"They're good, Jones." Emma smiled at him, the brightness of her eyes increasing. "Although I guess you already know that."

"Well, I've been told a couple of times." He commented with ill-concealed pride, putting on again the mask of self-confidence, which had almost disappeared when the wave of memories had taken hold of him.

"So, were these photos what you wanted to show me? Because I must admit that I'm quite impressed. You could organize an exhibition with just this material." He should be used to the compliments he received for his work, but there was something in Emma, maybe the intensity of her gaze, maybe the glimpse of admiration in her voice, that caused his stomach to flutter without stopping while his chest swelled with pride and he lost the ability to function properly.

"Not really." They both placed the beers on the coffee table and Killian approached her, guiding her to the opposite wall, his hand in contact with the small of her back sending electric shocks all over his body. His heart thudded in his chest, in anticipation of what her reaction would be when she saw the cameras.

Once again, Emma managed to surprise him, but Killian was not sure if it was in a good way. The moment her gaze fell on the devices, her eyes widened slightly, as she extended a hand, sliding her fingers almost reverently over one of the cameras - an old Polaroid.

Killian's eyebrows went together as he studied her expression for some clue. It seemed that she was making great efforts not to burst into tears, her lips pressed together, her chin trembling subtly, her gaze thousands of miles away.

"Are you okay, Swan?" He couldn't help the concern in his voice as, in an impulse, his hand reached for her.

"I grew up in the foster care system..." She snapped suddenly but then trailed off, her gaze still lost. She blinked a couple of times and then looked up, her lips curving into a tiny smile. "This camera, or one of this kind, was the first purchase I made when I got some money."

 _So that was it, she was an orphan_. Just like him. A shadow of something deep crossed her gaze, as an indication that her life had been far from pleasant. His heart tightened in his chest as a wave of sympathy towards her washed over him. He knew from his own experience that what she least needed at that moment was compassion. If she had decided to trust him, it was for some different reason and he had no intention of disappointing her. Once again, the photography came to his rescue.

"Do you still have it? The camera?" He asked in a soft tone as he gently squeezed her arm and gave her a smile that he hoped was comforting enough.

She shook her head while exhaling deeply. "No. I may have lost it when I was transferred from one house to another, but I still have the pictures I took with it." She paused for a moment while looking thoughtful, then continued talking, looking again at his gaze. "I had several cameras later until finally, I decided to just stick with the phone. A single object that included several functions seemed the most affordable option." She shrugged as if trying to justify herself. "But I still remember that camera and how powerful I felt when the image appeared in front of me in just a few minutes. It was like magic." Her smile became more genuine as a spark appeared in her eyes.

Killian was still surprised by the effect that photography seemed to have on them, as well as the strong connection between them, to the point of sharing the memories of their first camera. It was as if they had found the same way to channel their fears or frustrations, making their internal demons more bearable. Maybe it was really destiny who had decided that the path of these two lost souls would cross, he thought as a flame of hope seemed to intensify in his heart. It was still faint, but he was determined to cling to it with all his might.

Perhaps the time had come for him to also offer her some glimpse of his past, although he sensed that she knew much more about him than the other way around. "It's funny, Swan, because this was also the first camera I got. I was ten when my father abandoned us. My brother..." he trailed off as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Despite the fact that almost ten years had passed since Liam's death, he still felt his loss in the form of a fresh wound that never completely healed.

This time it was her turn to stretch out her arm, her hand searching for his as she squeezed it lightly. "He was working from dusk to dawn during the following months, and the first thing he got when he managed to save some money was this camera, trusting that maybe I would be distracted enough to forget the abandonment and its implications."

"Did it work?" Emma asked softly, her fingers drawing delicate patterns on the skin of his hand, causing a warm sensation to spread through his body, managing to stop the escalation of overwhelming thoughts that had begun to take hold of him.

"Aye. A new world opened before me the instant I realized I was able to capture small moments and make them eternal." His mind traveled to that small coastal town of England, the place where he grew up, while remembering fondly those years in which, despite the difficulties, he still had not lost hope and was able to look at the world with optimism through the lens of his camera.

They remained silent for a few seconds, their hands still intertwined as they watched the rest of the cameras. "We make quite the pair, right?" Emma commented in a light tone that still hid some vestige of sadness but at least she managed to relieve the tension, something to which he responded with a grateful smile. Her gaze then drifted to another of the cameras, an old Leica, one of his favorites.

"Whoa, this camera seems almost like a collector's." Her face lit up as she reached up to the camera, but her hand stopped before she touched the object. "May l?" She asked, hesitant.

"Sure, love. You can even take pictures with it."

"Are you sure?" She seemed reluctant, as if she did not dare touch the camera for fear of breaking it or something. If she knew the experiences that this camera had witnessed... It was a survivor, like its owner.

"I don't have these cameras as simple collection pieces, but as memories and as tools. Of course you can use them." Killian affirmed while he himself took the camera, and passed it to Emma.

"These cameras have traveled with you then? Yes?" She asked as she accepted the camera and held it carefully.

"Aye, and not only on my trip from London. Many of them have been my faithful companions on my numerous trips." _And they are my only possessions_ , but he would not comment it out loud, not now that they had managed to channel the conversation, leaving their ghosts of the past forgotten, at least for a while.

During the following minutes, Emma took pictures with the Leica while Killian explained the mechanisms and differences with a digital camera. It took a while for her to adapt at first, but once she managed to lose her fear of the object, she was gaining confidence until it seemed natural, even giving him instructions on how he should position himself while he was acting as an improvised model. He happily complied, of course, his stomach fluttering fiercely as his heart swelled a little with admiration towards this strong and determined woman who had managed to overcome her past.

Time flew by and before they knew it the film was finished. Killian wasn't willing to let her go so soon, though. Luckily for him, he still had some other resources up his sleeve.

"What do you think if we continue with our lesson? The next step would be to learn how to develop photographs." He suggested while arching his eyebrows.

"You mean the photos of this film?" Her eyes sparkled with excitement, while she pointed to the camera she still held.

"No, sadly." He rubbed the back of his head while he pursed his lips in apology. "That would take us hours or days, but I can teach you the basics and maybe you can come back another day to develop your photo film."

A shadow of disappointment crossed her face, but she seemed to recover quickly. "Wait a minute... Do you mean that you have a dark room like those that come out in the movies? With trays of chemical solutions and all that stuff?" Emma practically bounced excitedly as her face lit up.

"There is only one way to find out." Killian offered her his hand which Emma gladly accepted as she let herself be guided. While holding her hand, Killian could feel the warmth of her touch, his heart beating hard against his chest. He ignored the physical reactions of his body and focused on continuing to surprise Emma with his knowledge. That was the only thing that really mattered, wasn't it?

"Whoa, you definitely take photography seriously." Emma commented as soon as they reached the room. "It's all very professional, isn't it?" Before he could respond to the obvious, Emma continued talking. "Even at the risk of looking a little obsessed with your trip from London, did you bring all this from there - all the liquids and that huge equipment?"

Her comment and her bemused expression drew a deep chuckle from his chest. "That equipment is called enlarger and I'm afraid that was also David's work." His smile grew smaller as he remembered his friend's reasons. "It was his way of encouraging me to continue taking pictures after..." His voice trailed off as he raised his left arm showing his prosthesis.

An awkward silence fell over them as he cursed inwardly and wished that the darkroom had been in fact - _dark-_ in order to hide his expression of embarrassment.

He cast a sidelong glance at Emma, to check her reaction. She bit her bottom lip, as if she was thinking what to say. Finally, she was the one who broke the silence. "They seem like the best friends. You're lucky in that regard, Jones."

"That I am." It was all he managed to say without having to reveal his emotions too much.

"By the way, I don't know if this would sound insensitive. As you may have deduced, my social skills are not my forte... Anyway…, you are perfectly capable of doing awesome photos with just one hand. Your friends know it. I know it. Now you just have to convince yourself as well."

This time it was she who reached for his hand and entwined her fingers with his, her lips drawing a warm smile. A wave of gratitude seized him, as well as an almost unstoppable desire to do something that he would later regret when his gaze drifted to her lips.

Instead, he cleared his throat and, after offering her a smile of gratitude, he commented, his voice coming in a slightly hoarse tone than usual. "Shall we continue with the lesson, Swan?"

He explained to her as best he could the process of developing and printing photographs, while they practiced with some old negatives. Maybe it was their proximity, maybe the fact that they were together in a space so small and dark, illuminated only by a lamp that emitted a dim, reddish light. The fact was that he felt less and less able to concentrate on his task when the only thing he could feel was the warmth that emanated from her body, her essence and her soft voice.

There was a moment when he unconsciously placed his prosthesis on her waist while he reached for a pair of tweezers. This time, however, the contact did not make her jump by surprise, but pulled her even closer to him. It was like that, with his left arm surrounding her waist while she leaned lightly on his side, witnessing the appearance of the first images on photographic paper.

"It's like magic." She muttered as she stared at the trays that contained the newly printed photographs. He, however, was unable to look at anything other than her. Despite the semi-darkness that surrounded them, the red light allowed him to appreciate her profile with relative clarity. It was as if, once they had entered the darkroom, a spell of attraction towards her had fallen on him, rendering him unable to function properly when all thoughts were filled with her.

"Thank you, Killian." Her gaze finally strayed from the trays to find his. "For everything."

Her proximity was driving him crazy, causing the butterflies of his stomach to flap mercilessly while his heart threatened to come out of his chest. Maybe for that reason, he put on the mask of seduction while leaning slightly towards her, tapping his lips with his fingers. "Well, maybe gratitude is in order now that we're in Thanksgiving week."

"Yeah, that's what the 'thank you' was for."

He was playing with fire, but something had seized him, making him unable to properly process what was happening, so he let himself be carried away by his instincts. The time to assume the consequences would follow later.

"That all my masterclass is worth to you?"

He murmured the words full of intention and stepped forward, but far from intimidating Emma, he seemed to capture her interest, since, after rolling her eyes, she addressed him in a no less seductive tone. "Please... You couldn't handle it."

Killian shortened the distance between them even more, his gaze traveling briefly from her lips to her eyes, the faint reddish lighting doing wonders on her face, making it even more attractive  "Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it." He whispered with a deliberate emphasis on the final t, his eyes never leaving hers.

Emma seemed to accept the challenge though since, almost without giving him time to react, she grabbed him by the t-shirt and crushed his lips with her own in a demanding and heated kiss. Despite the initial shock, Killian acted quickly, cradling the back of her head with his right hand as he circled her waist with his left arm, pushing her even closer to him.

Her intoxicating taste, as well as the softness of her lips, caused his head to spin. He moaned against her mouth and angled his head to allow her deeper, causing his blood to run burning through his veins, spreading a warmth all over his body.

Just as their tongues began their first dance together, Emma pushed back, resting her forehead against his, both trying to catch their breaths. "That was..." His voice sounded like a muffled murmur, still too entranced by what had just happened.

"A one-time thing..." She breathed against his lips as she released the grip on his shirt and started to move away. "I..." The gloom of the room did not allow him to clearly observe her features, and he almost was grateful for it, because he was not sure he could bear to see the regret written over her face. "...I have to go."

Before he could react though, she had already left, leaving him alone, surrounded by darkness, while his lips tingled and his whole body hummed, craving more kisses like that.

Killian shook his head as his heart tightened in his chest, an overwhelming thought crossing his mind. He not only hadn't been able to handle it, but was probably also making the biggest mistake of his life. In no way could he develop feelings for anyone, much less for Emma Swan. He was not going to drag her into his spiral of misery.

Even so, although he was sure that Emma had made the right decision to leave, that did not stop him from feeling for a few seconds as if the last pieces of a complex puzzle had finally fit. Now, however, he ran the risk of that puzzle blowing to even smaller bits, making it impossible for the pieces to come together again. He let out a deep exhale as he rubbed his lips with his fingers, the vestige of her taste still lingering. He was so fucked up.

* * *

  _Is our exclusive Tuesday class still remaining? KJ_

**_What did you have in mind? ES_ **

_Nature photos? KJ_

**_Okay. ES_ **

_Good. See you on Tuesday. KJ_

* * *

Even though Emma had confirmed that she would come, Killian was not entirely sure, since, after the kiss-incident, they hadn't seen each other again, nor had they maintained any communication except for the brief exchange of texts the other day.

For that reason, when he saw her appear at the entrance to the park in all her glory, he couldn't prevent a wide grin appearing on his face. He quickly schooled his features so as not to give away his excitement. Only a tiny smile remained on his face when his gaze met hers.

She was stunning that afternoon. Her long golden hair fell in gentle waves over her shoulders, while the unusual sun of late November illuminated her face. Despite her serious expression, her eyes showed a special brightness that he could not decipher. He had to suppress the urge to grab the camera and immortalize the fire in her gaze.

"Hi."

"Hey." She crossed her arms over her chest in a somewhat defensive manner, a faint crease between her eyebrows, her lips pressed together.

Although maybe she should be the one to explain, since it was she who started the kiss in the first place and who left after not giving them time to clarify what happened, he was in need of breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over them. He swallowed hard as he scratched behind his ear and his lips drew a small smile. "About the other day..."

"It was just a kiss." She cut him off abruptly. A sigh escaped her mouth before she continued as she shoved her hands in her back pockets and tilted her head slightly, seeking his gaze. "Look, the other day was a mistake... I mean, it's not going to happen again. It's better if we keep this relationship..." She gestured with her hand pointing to both of them "...if stay in that, in something merely educational. "

"Educational..." He echoed her word as he narrowed his eyes, studying her features in search of something, some hint that her feelings might be similar to his own. "There is no room for friendship then?" Killian challenged, holding her gaze. After a few seconds, she was the first to look away, while Killian counted it as a small victory. "Do you want me to treat you as a mere student, Swan?"

"I don't know." She exhaled deeply, rubbing her forehead with her hand, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. "It's complicated, and I don't want complications in my life, not now when I've found some kind of stability, and I don't want to screw things up in class." Her eyes returned to look for his and he held her gaze, keeping silent. "So, can we leave things as they are, forget what happened and... we'll keep figuring it out along the way? Please?" Her voice sounded almost like a plea as she bit her lower lip and gave him a disarming look.

"As you wish." He showed his agreement with a slight bow of his head. Maybe it was the spark he detected in her green eyes, just a glimpse, but promising enough, maybe the inability he felt to deny her anything, or maybe it was the fact that she was right. The fact was that Killian decided to accept her conditions, since she left the door open to maintain this kind of friendship that had been created between them. It was better for both of them if they slowed down any feelings that had started to blossom.

"Good..." Her smile of relief did nothing to calm his inner turmoil, though. "What do you think if we start the lesson, professor?"

He tried to concentrate on the practices while making sure that she understood all his explanations, maintaining a strictly professional image. But it was hard, almost torture, because each time their hands accidentally touched, he felt like an electric shock ran through his body. Each time he caught a glimpse of her gaze, his mind imagined how her eyes would shine under more pleasurable situations. Each time he felt his body next to hers, he felt her warmth radiating from her and attracting him like a magnet.

At the end of the class, he found himself with mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was willing to distance himself from her, and thereby release all the accumulated tension. On the other hand, the mere thought of not seeing her until the following Saturday left his body tingling as his heart beat hard.

Just as they were saying goodbye until the following Saturday, a thought crossed his mind, hitting him hard to the point of feeling as if all the air had escaped his lungs. The Friday before his next class would be the tenth anniversary of his brother's death. The memory fell on him like a slab, his old demons threatening to surface with a show of all their destructive potential. For the first time in a long time though, he thought it might be more bearable for him to deal with the suffering of remembering his brother's unjust death, because in this way his mind would be distracted, leaving no room to think about Emma Swan and his possible feelings towards her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)
> 
> What to expect from the next chapter? Angst is coming... We will know how Killian deals with the anniversary of Liam's death and how that leads him to a confrontation with David. He may find unexpected support in one of his students...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of angst here… We will know how Killian deals with the anniversary of Liam’s death and how that leads him to a confrontation with David. He may find unexpected comfort in one of his students…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta Amy. I’m aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.
> 
> Go visit Kate’s blog and enjoy her amazing art. There is no specific art for this chapter, but the photoset that she created for the previous chapter also serves for this one.
> 
> Sara, thank you so much for everything.

# CHAPTER 5

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke - December 2, 2017**

_He was running, fleeing in despair as his heart beat frantically in his chest and his lungs burned. Menacing shadows loomed over him while he tried to make his way through the fog, his legs always moving, escaping the terror that haunted him._

_Despite his attempts, he could feel his pursuer approaching him more and more, extending its tentacles to the point of almost touching him while a murmur - like an echo of multiple voices - began to reach his ears. Killian hurried forward, covering his ears in a desperate attempt not to listen to the message that was approaching inexorably._

_Just when he seemed to have won enough distance, he found an impenetrable wall that slowed his progress. A fierce fear seized him when he felt caged, with no possibility of escape, while the ghosts loomed over him until he could not do anything to avoid hearing the message. Defeated, he gave up, preparing for the inevitable._

_"Your brother is dead." The chorus of dreadful voices repeated the message over and over again, causing it to penetrate into him, digging a hole in his heart so deep that it reached his very soul._

"No!" Killian woke with a start, drenched in sweat, his heart hammering against his ribcage, threatening to come out of his chest. _Bloody nightmare_. He tried to calm his agitated breathing, inhaling and exhaling slowly as he ran his hand over his face and hair, a thick fog occupying his brain.

He dropped his head onto the pillow while massaging his temples. _It's just a nightmare_ , he tried to convince himself, although unfortunately, there was no possible consolation, not when the frightening dream was not going to fade once he had woken up. That nightmare had been nothing more than the reflection of an irrefutable reality - his brother was not going to come back.

Even so, his troubled sleep had managed to drain all the energy from his body— the excessive level of alcohol that still ran through his veins had also contributed— and an extreme tiredness seized him again. He was not afraid to go back to sleep though because, whether awake or asleep, the reminder of Liam gone forever was going to accompany him until he exhaled his last breath.

When Killian woke again a few hours later, he did not do it because of a new nightmare, but a deafening sound that went through his head, as if someone was digging a hole straight to his brain.

He was unable to detect the origin of the sound at first, his mind still too clouded after the excesses committed the previous day. His senses seemed to wake up gradually, at least enough to finally identify the source and make it stop. He fumbled for his phone on the bedside table without even bothering to open his eyes.

"Bloody alarm." He croaked, the words rasping his throat, while he resisted the urge to throw the phone against the wall to stop the damn noise. Instead, showing the little awareness he had at that moment, he slid his fingers across the screen, turning off the alarm and finally getting his bedroom to be quiet.

The absence of sounds did not make his terrible headache fade, rather the contrary. It became more evident now that there was no more noise to distract him. He groaned while rubbing his forehead in a vain attempt to curb the pain. Not only did he not get any relief, but his mind seemed to clear enough to remind him why he had set the alarm. His classes on Saturdays. _Emma_.

A deep exhalation escaped his lips as a mixed sensation of regret, guilt and shame settled in his stomach, increasing his nausea.

The very idea of crawling out of bed and unfolding his mask of charm did nothing but build up his general unease. There was no way he would show up in class in this state, hungover and miserable, with nothing worthwhile to offer his students except his battered person and the demons that tormented him.

At least he had managed to get to bed last night, he thought bitterly as he made a decision. He typed a quick text to Belle, informing her that he could not attend the class for personal reasons, then he silenced his phone and placed it back on his bedside table. He tried to settle into his bed, sinking back into his pillow and covering himself with the sheets in an almost desperate attempt to get sleep to invade him again and his turbulent thoughts to give him a rest.

* * *

 

###  **David Nolan. Storybrooke - December 2, 2017**

David let out a long sigh as he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gain enough determination before opening the door, really afraid of what he would find. He was standing in front of the door of Killian's apartment, holding the keys with one hand while passing the other through his hair, reluctant to take the next step.

He had received a call an hour ago from Belle, informing him that Killian would not be attending his class today. A tug of uneasiness had settled in his stomach from that moment, though he had already begun to suspect from the previous day, when Killian had refused to meet them.

It was a significant date for them, marked in red on the calendar. He was aware that it was hard for his friend, he really was. _Damn it!_ He was having a really bad time too. The reminder that his best friend had died ten years ago was not easy to bear.

But, Killian's mourning did not seem to have eased over the years. David had hoped that maybe staying away from the place where everything happened would mitigate his suffering. It did not seem like that though, if Belle's call was an indication.

And now he was afraid of the state in which he would find his friend - maybe passed out in his bed with a bottle of rum at his side, maybe lying on the sofa, semi-unconscious, or suffering alcohol poisoning in the worst scenario... _Stop_! The best way to find out was to open the damn door. He finally turned the key, holding his breath.

He found Killian sitting on the couch, his head resting against the back of the sofa, eyes closed and a cup of what looked like tea on the coffee table. It could have been worse, he thought with relative relief as he let out a quiet sigh.

His friend did not even flinch with his arrival, as if he had been waiting for him or as if he was not yet fully aware of what was happening around him. "What are you doing here?" Killian mumbled in a hoarse voice, a clear vestige of his previous drunkenness, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"Making sure you're still alive." David replied harsher than he intended but the whole situation was starting to get on his nerves.

"Well, I'm still breathing, as you can see. Mission accomplished. You can now go and spend the rest of the day with your lovely wife." This time Killian did look at him, his eyes bloodshot and fatigue evident in the lines of his face. Still, he seemed to be in a belligerent mood, and that was the Killian most difficult to deal with.

"You are hungover." David’s words did not come as a question but as a confirmation, his hands on his hips, not letting himself be overwhelmed by the attitude of his friend.  
  
Killian let out a snort while shaking his head. "We're perceptive today, aren't we, mate?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
A humorless laugh escaped Killian's mouth, somehow causing his sensation of uneasiness to increase, his stomach clenched into knots. "Well, that's obvious, isn't that?"

"Humor me." He said simply, not willing to join his game, but trying subtly to help him open up to him.

"I was mourning the death of my brother, or now isn't it allowed to drink to relieve..." Killian paused, as if he had thought better what he was going to say "...to forget?"

David did not respond immediately, hesitant about how to continue, though the words burned on the tip of his tongue. He was already tired of going warily around Killian, he needed to react in some way, to realize that if he kept going that way he was not only not going to get over it but the hole would get even deeper. "Not if that prevents you from carrying out your responsibilities the next day."

Killian’s features hardened in an instant. "So, all this is about your bloody course? I will compensate the students. Not to worry, mate. And now, if you'll excuse me... " He pointed to the door with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"To hell with the course, Killian." David threw his arms in the air in exasperation. "Don't hold onto that because it won't work." Before continuing, he took two deep breaths, trying to pull himself together. He did not want to start a fight with Killian, but to make him understand. "Do you think it's easy for us to see how you prefer to lock yourself in here and drink yourself  into oblivion instead of leaning on us, your friends?" _Your family_ , he was about to say, but somehow he thought that would not be appropriate at this time, although he felt it totally was that way, especially in situations like this, when a weird feeling took over him, thinking that he was acting like a father would do it by telling his son off.

A tense silence fell over them at that moment, making David aware of the situation in which they were positioned. He was still standing, defiant, his whole body tense. Killian, on the other hand, remained sitting on the couch and seemed defeated now, his shoulders sagging as he ran his hand over his head and hair. He had not even bothered to put on the prosthesis and his stump now rested on his lap.

David swallowed the lump in his throat as he sighed heavily. "What will happen next, Killian? What will happen in a couple of months when it will be the anniversary of the death of..."

"Don't you dare say her name." Killian cut him abruptly while raising a finger in warning. "It's so easy for you, isn't it?" He hissed, the bitterness written all over his face.

"Is it easy for me? To see you suffer that way? Do you forget that I also lost my best friend ten years ago?"

"It's hard to forget, Dave. I'm sorry that you're stuck with the wrong brother, but from today on, I release you from your burden. You don't need to feel obligated to worry about me anymore. You can go back home and live your happily ever after with your wife."

David shook his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Somehow, Killian's words had acted as direct darts against his heart. "You don't have the exclusivity of suffering, Killian. Maybe when you get out of that spiral of self-loathe that you've imposed on yourself, you'll realize what's around you. You're not the only one who is tormented by his demons of the past."

Killian arched an eyebrow as his lips drew a smirk that had little authenticity, a twitching muscle in his jaw betraying his tension. "Let me see if I've understood correctly, you are suggesting that Prince Charming, the perfect man, is stalked by ghosts of the past? Maybe a dirty little secret? What would it be, mate?" He leaned forward a bit in a challenging attitude.

It was evident that Killian was using a self-defense mechanism, but that did not prevent a tug of frustration from seizing him, as he verified that his visit had not only been a waste of time but that he had also made the situation worse in some way. David felt his shoulders sink as he clenched his jaw and held his gaze for a few seconds, but the coldness in his friend's eyes caused him to finally look away and begin to turn in the direction of the door. "Lunch is in our house tomorrow. I hope to see you there. Do it for Mary Margaret at least."

Without waiting for an answer, David started walking with a defeated step. Killian's next words, however, made him stop short, his breath caught in his throat. "He knew it, didn't he? Liam, did he know your secret?"

Killian did not bother this time to mask his feelings, rather the contrary. His voice showed in a raw way all the frustration, bitterness and sadness that he had been carrying all these years. A pull of guilt settled in David's gut, while he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, feeling increasingly helpless. "Yes, he did." He muttered, not even daring to turn around. "See you tomorrow, Killian."

When David left the apartment he had to lean against the wall for a moment, trying to calm his agitated heart and wondering how the hell he was going to explain to Mary Margaret that, instead of helping their friend, he had managed to plunge him further into misery.

* * *

 

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke - December 2, 2017**

The moment David left the apartment, nausea crept up Kilian's throat. He had barely enough time to crawl into the bathroom and empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet. Then he dropped on the floor, a cold sweat, accentuated by the coldness of the tiles, running all over his body, his headache becoming even more intense.

He was a selfish bastard, he thought in frustration as he let out a deep exhale. David's veiled confession repeated over and over again in his mind as he kept wondering why his friend had waited until now to expose himself in that way. He was not sure if he wanted to know the answer though. Maybe David had done it to protect him. Or maybe his secret was not that important and he did not think it necessary for Killian to know it. Maybe he just did not trust him.

He was aware that he had been unfair to David by reproaching him when his friend had only tried to help, but the rollercoaster of emotions that he had experienced in recent days was taking a toll on him, leaving him unable to function properly.

Killian did not blame David for trusting his brother as his confidant, after all, they had been, best friends. That was not what affected him most but rather the growing sense that David had lost his best friend and had instead been stuck with the broken brother, the one whom he always had to help put his pieces together. And what had he offered him in return? Nothing, absolutely nothing.

What kind of person had he become so that his friends had decided not only not to entrust their burden with him, but that he had been completely unaware that they were harboring a secret?

The very idea that his actions could push David and Mary Margaret away was impossible for him to bear, making his heart tighten as an overwhelming feeling washed over him. He could not lose his friends, practically the only good thing that he had managed to cling to in the spiral of destruction to which he was subjected.

But he also needed to know what they had been hiding from him. Maybe it was time to put the cards on the table and face reality, instead of hiding under the layers of suffering and helplessness. Maybe the time had come to take hold of his own life. And the first step would be to atone up for his mistakes, pay the debt he had acquired with his friends and make them see that they could trust him.

Just as he made his way back to the living room, Killian remembered that he had left his phone muted in his bedroom when trying, unsuccessfully after David's visit, to isolate himself from the world.

To his surprise, when he grabbed the phone he found several messages, all from the same person, Emma.

**_Hey, Belle just told us that today's class has been canceled. I hope everything is fine. ES_ **

**_Are you alright, Killian? ES_ **

**_I'm here, if you need to talk or something. ES_ **

**_Tell me something, please, I'm starting to worry. ES_ **

After reading her messages, Killian's lips curled slightly, drawing the closest thing to a faint smile. He hadn't forgotten that Emma and his growing escalation of feelings towards her had contributed to his break down the previous day, but the fact that someone, beyond the Nolans, was concerned about his welfare was something he was not used to. Killian took a deep breath, letting a warm sensation travel to his heart. Next, he typed a message back.

_I'll be fine, love. See you on Tuesday? KJ_

Her answer didn't take long to arrive in the form of a short text but that he felt like a breath of fresh air, causing his smile to become wider.

**_Of course. Don't believe for a second that you're going to get rid of me so easily, Jones. ES_ **

* * *

Needless to say, Killian could not refuse lunch at the Nolans' the next day. Before arriving at his friends' apartment, Killian had decided that the first thing he would do would be to apologize for his previous behavior. However, all his determination went out the window at the moment when Mary Margaret opened the door and welcomed him with a smile that did not reach her eyes.

"Killian! It's great that you could make it. Come in!" The fact that his friend seemed genuinely surprised by his presence there did nothing to mitigate his inner turmoil, increasing the feeling that he might have fucked things up with his friends, making their interactions awkward, in contrast to the naturalness and closeness obtained after so many years of getting to know each other.

The words of apology had burned on the tip of his tongue throughout the lunch, but the conversation between them was reduced to the minimum of courtesy, while his friends cast sidelong glances at each other when they thought he was not looking.

Killian could tell that David was also tense, at least his jaw clenched and his gaze fleeting seemed to indicate it. He also could detect a shadow of something resembling regret crossing his face.

When Mary Margaret disappeared in the direction of the kitchen with the excuse of preparing coffee, throwing on the way a look full of intention to her husband, the tension became so thick you could cut it with a knife.

The moment of truth had arrived. Or so he thought. When his gaze met David's intense gaze, a sense of growing panic crawled up his throat, making him unable to face back to whatever tormented him.

He sat up suddenly, rubbing the back of his neck, his heart hammering in his chest. "I better go." Killian muttered an excuse and rushed to the door.

"Killian! Wait! We should talk."

Maybe it was the hint of plea in his friend's voice, but his words managed to reach him. He turned slowly, afraid of what he would find when he looked into David's eyes.

His troubled expression and his look full of regret caused his heart to fall to his feet, feeling guilty to see his friend in that state. Killian rubbed his eyes with his hand as he took a long breath, in an attempt to calm the frantic beating of his heart.

"I just.." David trailed off, tilting his head slightly upwards as he exhaled. When his gaze returned to look for his, its intensity, far from disappearing, had increased. "Listen, I just wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday."

Killian opened his mouth in an attempt to reply, but David held up his hand in sign of letting him continue. "It was out of place especially because you were in a vulnerable situation given your state, but if I told you all that, it was not because I was judging you, but because I was trying to help you." David paused again, his lips drawing the closest thing to a tiny apologetic smile. "In the wrong way, I'm aware of it now. Anyway, I get it. You're still overwhelmed and hurt, but maybe we can find some time during the next week to have a quiet talk, you and me. What do you think?"

Killian nodded slightly, a shy smile pulling at his lips. "Aye, mate, I'd like it." The moment his words left his mouth it was as if the weight David had been carrying on his shoulders suddenly disappeared. His features softened showing the relief he felt and making Killian, in turn, also feel much lighter, part of all the accumulated tension, finally giving him a momentary break.

Just as he was leaving his friends' apartment, his phone started buzzing in his pocket indicating an incoming message. He hurried to unlock the screen, while a tug of anticipation settled in the pit of his stomach.

**_Hey, how are you doing? My offer is still standing. I'm here, if you need to talk. ES_ **

He tried to assess all the reasons why it was wrong to meet Emma again, but in the end, his heart was stronger. His fingers slid nimbly across the screen, typing a quick response.

_I may use that offer. Are you free now? KJ_

**_Meet me at Granny's in 30? ES_ **

_On my way. KJ_

* * *

Killian arrived at Granny's in fifteen minutes and decided to wait for Emma at the bar, letting his thoughts wander freely while stirring his coffee. When the bells above the entrance door announced the arrival of someone, his muscles tensed in anticipation. He did not even have to turn around to know that Emma was already there.

"Hey there." She greeted as she dropped onto the nearby stool, her scent and warmth immediately surrounding him, making him feel light-headed.

"Hi." The corners of his lips twisted upward in an attempt at a smile, while his gaze met her hypnotic green eyes.

"So coffee?" She questioned and waved a hand at the waitress —not Ruby this time— pointing to his coffee mug while mouthing quietly " _ the same _ ". She then addressed him,  "Something told me that, when it comes to having deep conversations you would be a rum, or any other stronger liquid, kind of guy." It was obvious that she was trying to lighten the atmosphere by teasing him, at least that indicated the tentative smile she offered him.

"Don't underestimate the power of coffee, love." He teased back by raising an eyebrow at her, earning an eye roll on her part. "Also, after having ingested more than a considerable amount of rum the other day, it did not seem appropriate to add even more poison to my system today."

"So that was the reason why you canceled the class yesterday? Because you were hungover?" There was no reproach in her words, but rather something similar to understanding.

"Last Friday was the tenth anniversary of my brother's death." He confessed quietly, unable to stop the glimpse of grief in his voice, his gaze fixed on the coffee mug in front of him. "People might think that ten years is more than enough time to overcome the death of a loved one, but it seems that I'm the exception to the rule." He did not dare to look at Emma for fear of what he might find. Instead, he continued talking. "Besides, I may have had a confrontation with my friend."

"Hey, Killian, look at me." He felt Emma gently squeezing his upper arm in an attempt to get his attention. After letting out a deep sigh, he finally dared to look her in the eyes. "That's why I'm here, isn't it? You need someone to listen to you, so here I am. I'm not going to judge you, not when I also carry my own ghosts."

Maybe it was her words uttered with a gentle cadence, or her smile of encouragement, whatever it was, it worked as a catalyst for Killian to decide to open up to her and confess all his worries. Not all, actually. His thoughts and feelings towards her remained locked in the deepest recesses of his heart.

His confession came in the form of a torrent of words unable to be stopped. He confessed how deeply his brother's death had affected him and how he felt in relation to his friends. Weighed down with the permanent feeling of not reaching Liam’s level, he feared he would not only disappoint them, but also would be just a burden for them to the point they could not trust him with their secrets.

This was the first time he uttered these feelings out loud and certainly, the confession had a liberating effect. Even so, a tug of regret settled in the pit of his stomach, since his intention had never been to drag Emma to his miseries and yet at the first opportunity he had done just that.

"I'm sorry, Swan, I shouldn’t..."

His attempt at an apology died on his lips when Emma placed her index finger on them, gently brushing them. "It's okay. I think it's my turn now, right?" Her gaze sought his and he responded by nodding in silence, as a signal for her to continue. "First, I'm so sorry for your loss." She paused for a moment as she averted her gaze and bit on her lower lip, in a thoughtful gesture, as if deciding what to say next. "My adoptive parents died when I was only three years old so I barely keep any memories of them, but I have that feeling, like a hole in my heart - although in my case the reason is not because of what I lost but because of what I could have had."

His heart skipped a beat when he heard her confession. Instinctively, he reached out his hand for her arm. "Emma..."

She shook her head. "Today is not about me, it's about you." Her lips drew the ghost of a smile. "It wasn't my intention to compare your loss with mine. I mean, even after all these years, I still feel the meaning of their absence. So maybe we should focus only on trying to live with the loss, accept it, instead of overcoming it."

Killian took a deep breath and let it out slowly, while assimilating her words. "You're right, Swan, but sometimes it's a bit hard, especially when you don’t have to deal with only one loss." His words slipped through his lips before he even had time to process their hidden meaning. Quickly, he tried to rectify, "but better if we leave that tale for another day."

Emma's eyes bored into his for a few seconds, as if she were studying him, trying to figure out what else was hidden behind his words. Finally, she let it go and instead continued. "And as for your friends, how many years have you known them?"

"Almost twenty years." He admitted reluctantly.

"Twenty years... Do you really think that your relationship with them was going to last for so many years just because they feel responsible for you or see you as just a burden? Come on, Jones. You're a lucky guy for having them and I suppose they are too for having you as their friend."

"I'm not so sure about that, Swan, I'm starting to realize that I've behaved like a bloody selfish brat all these years."

Emma snorted as she shook her head with an expression of disbelief on her face. "I can't believe you did not offer them anything, Jones. Don't think so little about yourself."

Killian rubbed his eyes as he squeezed his brain for some memory, something to cling to, even if it was only a glimpse. Suddenly, an image popped clear into his mind, an image of happiness on a sunny London afternoon. A wedding. The Nolans' wedding. And Mary Margaret's words when he, at that time no more than a teenager who still had a lot to learn, had asked her puzzled why they had taken so long to get married if they had been together since forever.  _ "Because it never seemed the right time, until we got here, we met you and we knew we wouldn't want to share this moment with anyone but you, brothers Jones." _

The corners of his lips twisted upwards, as a wave of affection for his friends reached his heart. Emma must have noticed his change of attitude, because she immediately encouraged him to express what was going through his mind. Killian confessed his memory, a small anecdote that had gone unnoticed at the time but that for him, given the circumstances, was now precious.

"That's so cute, Killian. I'm sure you may have hundreds of memories like that. Maybe it's a good idea if you focus on them, don't you think?" Emma suggested softly and he could not help but nod, since she was right. They had shared many small memories, the four of them together, until, after Liam's death, everything had gone to hell. He pushed those thoughts beneath the surface, trying to put Emma's advice into practice.

"Sometimes I had the feeling that they, both David and Liam, were trying to make up for my father's absence by acting themselves like one towards me, although neither of them was old enough for it. There were times when it seemed like I had two fathers, with all their implications, both positive and negative."

"I can imagine." She commented while both shared a short laugh, but that at least served to ease the tension. Once subsided, Emma asked again. "Don't they have children of their own?"

"No. I asked David once, since it seemed strange to me that, given their paternal instinct, they would not have become parents themselves. He replied vaguely, something like they had had the opportunity a long time ago but they lost it."

Another negative thought crossed his mind as he remembered that conversation, overshadowing the small moment of calm they had just passed through and causing his sense of guilt to increase. Even so, he did not feel able to push that memory away this time, but decided to share it with Emma.

"See? Another proof of my selfish attitude." He could almost savor the bitter taste of his words. "Instead of inquiring more about the reasons, I let it go and never asked again." A myriad of possibilities, some of which were disturbing, made their way through his mind, while the overwhelming feeling increased.

"Killian, I can hear you thinking, Just stop!" Emma demanded, as she squeezed his upper arm, causing him, even reluctant at first, to seek her gaze. "You can ask them now. In fact, you should do it, explain to them the same thing that you have explained to me. They will understand, and maybe that is how they’ll decide to open up and share their secret with you."

Killian gave her a smile of gratitude since Emma, once again, was right. He should talk to his friends. In fact, he should have done it that same day but instead, he decided to run away, too cowardly to face what he could discover.

"Aye. I'll talk to them." He assured looking into her eyes. She was directing him a look so intense that he felt lost for a few moments in the depth of her green eyes to such an extent that he had to look away before doing something he could regret, like kissing her senseless as a sign of gratitude. Again.

It was a mistake. When he managed to turn his gaze away from her eyes, he focused on looking around. His gaze fixed on the shelves full of alcoholic beverages, tempting him almost agonizingly. "Bloody hell, I need a drink so badly right now." Killian mumbled, looking down, while he ran his hand through his hair in an almost desperate attempt to calm his anxiety.

Emma got up at that moment, causing in him a sinking feeling for fear of having pushed her away at the time she finally realized how broken he was. Instead, she offered her hand, pulling him to the exit, but not before depositing some cash on the counter.

"What are you...?" Killian could not finish the sentence because, just as Granny's door closed behind them, he was silenced by Emma's lips on his. This unexpected kiss caught him even more off guard than the previous one but he soon reacted, cupping her cheek with his right hand and pulling her towards him as he deepened the kiss.

Like the previous one, it was raw, passionate and a bit desperate. He melted into her embrace as he explored her mouth in a demanding way, unable to think at that moment about the reasons for that kiss, only feeling how she seized all his senses in such a way until he almost lost control. Almost. Gradually, the reason returned, making him, although reluctantly, move a little away from her, seeking her gaze.

"Why?" He breathed against her lips feeling as she shuddered into his arms while licking her lips, as if savoring the vestiges of their kiss, no sign of regret in her eyes, quite the contrary.

She simply shrugged, "it served as a distraction, didn't it?" She whispered a few inches from his lips, her warm breath sending goosebumps all over his skin. "Besides, I really wanted to."

Killian closed his eyes as he rested his forehead on hers, too overwhelmed with the whole situation. "Don't play with me, Emma." He almost begged, while his heart thudded in his chest, intoning a silent prayer.

"I'm not playing, Killian." Emma caressed his cheek then, making him look her in the eye again. He could only see honesty and also fear in the brightness that returned her gaze. "I... my heart is broken, but with you, it's like it starts working again, and that paralyzes me with fear. In turn, though, it gives me hope that maybe this time, there is light at the end of the tunnel."

He could detect in the lines of expression and in her body slightly tense between his arms that this confession was proving difficult for her, but even so, she had managed to be brave enough to express it out loud. He couldn't disappoint her. "And you want me to accompany you until you reach that light?"

"Until we both reach that light." She corrected him. "How about trying to get to know each other first? I want to know more about you, just as I want you to know my secrets too."

"So this has not been a two-times thing?" He teased, purring the words in an attempt to lighten the tension.

"Let's leave it in that it may happen again, but without promises, if that works for you."

"Aye, love, but just for the record - when I kiss you again - and I will kiss you - it won't be as a means of distraction or as an impulse, but because you and I both want it."

They both remained lost in the other's gaze for a few seconds until finally, Emma seemed to react, disentangling herself from him and offering him her hand instead. "So, friends first but leaving the door open for something else?" The way in which her bottom lip caught between her teeth was so distracting that he had difficulty concentrating.

He forced his gaze to travel from her lips to her eyes as he nodded. "Let's wait then for the course to end so no one can accuse me of privileged treatment, that's when the fun begins."

"Good." The smile she gave him back, a flash of white teeth and curved lips, was so full of promise that he was tempted to kiss her again. He held back, though.

The reason told him that he should be cautious, that there was no way he would not come out unaffected of this, that Emma had the power in her hands to destroy him irreparably.

His heart instead — oh, his heart — beat frantically in his chest, the warm sensation of her body against his made him feel alive for the first time in a long time. For that reason, he decided to jump into the void and cling to that faint flame of hope that burned in her eyes.

A fierce determination settled in his chest. He would fix things with his friends and unravel the enigma that Emma Swan still entailed for him. And he would begin to face life without fear of consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)
> 
> What to expect from the next chapter? The angst is not over yet (in fact it has just started) The next chapter is one of the most important in the entire story. We will finally know the truth about The Nolans and how Killian will react when he finds out about his friends' secret and its implications.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The angst is not over yet (in fact it has just started) We will finally know the truth about The Nolans and how Killian will react when he finds out about his friends’ secret and its implications. This chapter is also one of the reasons why I love the David of this story, despite everything...Also, since someone asked me about ages, David is 46, Mary Margaret 45, Killian 32 (Liam was 8 years older) and Emma is 28 in the present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone for giving this story a chance. Thanks for your kudos, likes, reblogs and for your comments, they mean the world to me.
> 
> I'd like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta, Amy. I’m aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.
> 
> Go visit Kate's blog and enjoy her amazing art. The art that accompanies this chapter is dedicated to The Nolans, who will play a relevant role on this occasion. Kate has managed to perfectly capture the emotions that will accompany us next. The photoset also serves for the next chapter.
> 
> Sara, thank you for everything.

# CHAPTER 6

###  **David Nolan. Storybrooke. Twenty-eight years ago**

David was so damn tired that he could almost fall asleep right there in the middle of the hospital cafeteria. He let out a long sigh as he ran his hand through his hair and took a sip of his coffee, letting the hot, bitter liquid enter his system in an attempt to stay awake.

The last three days had been exhausting. Since he had received the news that his mother had fallen ill and had been transferred to Storybrooke hospital he had barely had a moment of calm. He'd had to pack a few belongings while taking the only available flight, in which he had to invest what few savings he had obtained in the last year working in an animal shelter near the college campus.

And now here he was, three days later, with a hopeless diagnosis for his mother, while his whole world threatened to fall apart around him. He would not go back to college, at least not for the moment. Maybe he would have to request a transfer to a nearby university, or even stop studying at all, since he did not even want to imagine what they would have to pay to give his mother the best possible treatment.

Maybe his departure had been doomed from the start, he thought as he leaned against the back of his seat, a tug of bitterness settling in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he should never have left in the first place. Not when the decision to begin his dream of becoming a journalist had meant separation from his girlfriend and that he had nearly lost his mother, the only family he had.

The return to Storybrooke was not only threatening his future, but it had brought back painful memories, as if this whole situation was nothing more than a wake-up call, a reminder that, however much he tried to escape his destiny, it always would bring him back to the place to which he supposedly belonged.

A chill ran through his body as he remembered Mary Margaret. She had been the person who had encouraged him the most to start his dream, promising that she would join him as soon as she finished her studies in high school. He had made the decision at the last minute, hesitating until the end, since it broke his heart to leave Mary Margaret alone with her awful stepmother. _"It will only be a year,"_ she had affirmed with determination. _"I can handle both Cora and Regina. Don't worry about me and go fulfill your dream, David."_

And everything had gone well at first, they had talked on the phone and exchanged letters, he had even returned to Storybrooke on a couple of occasions on specific dates, the last one having been his mother's birthday. Something had happened after that, he thought bitterly, since Mary Margaret had cut off all communication with him, not answering his phone calls and never writing him back.

He had tried to contact her by all possible means. Even during the summer break, only a few months ago, he had returned home with the intention of finding her. He understood, really, they had been only children discovering the first love, playing at being adults while a bright future awaited them. But it seemed that the separation had weighed too much and their future together no longer seemed an option. He just needed an explanation, something that would allow him to move on with his life and not keep him stuck by uncertainty.

Finally, he had discovered that Mary Margaret had left high school momentarily and had moved to the house her stepmother had in a nearby town. All his attempts to contact her were unsuccessful, all he had gotten was a brief phone call in which she asked him not to look for her, that she was fine but that she did not want to see him, leaving him heartbroken on his return to college.

Two months later, he was here again, wondering if she would still be living in the nearby town or have returned to Storybrooke. Maybe it was not too late yet, he told himself, maybe now that he seemed like he would have no choice but to stay here, they could have a second chance.

David looked at his watch realizing that he had been gone too long and his mother might need him, so he got up, gently stretching his numb muscles, so abused by the awful contraption they called a couch. Just as he started walking towards the exit, something, or rather someone, caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

His heart skipped a beat as all his internal alarms jumped when he spotted Regina, Mary Margaret's stepsister, sitting at the bar in the cafeteria. A million thoughts crossed his mind, imagining any possible scenario that would have led the vain Regina to be there, in a hospital cafeteria drinking cheap coffee. All his thoughts ended in one person - Mary Margaret.

Something clouded his reason at that moment, when, impulsively, he decided to approach her, looking for answers. Maybe Regina was not to blame for Mary Margaret's fate, since she too had been under the yoke of her own mother, but he had known her well over the years and knew that she and Mary Margaret never got along and their relationship became even more distant when Mary Margaret's father had divorced Regina's mother.

To his satisfaction, Regina's normally impassive face showed surprise at seeing him. Her eyes widened slightly, as the flash of something like fear crossed her gaze. She recovered quickly, though, schooling her features to show her usual coldness. "What are you doing here?" She asked with a faint tone of disdain as she crossed her arms over her chest in a defiant manner.

She could have intimidated him in the past, but he was not that little boy anymore. Maybe he was only eighteen, but the events of the last days had ended up taking their toll on him. "What are you doing here?" He counterattacked, ignoring her question, his hands on both sides curled into fists.

"It's none of your business." She replied in a dismissive tone. This time, despite her sharp comment, a shadow of trepidation crossed her face, causing the worry to crawl up his stomach, tightening it into knots, as he felt like a bad omen was hovering over him.

"It's about Mary Margaret, isn't it? Is she here? What's wrong with her?" He snapped, glaring at her, his tone perhaps too threatening to the point of causing the usually imperturbable Regina to flinch a bit.

"You're here for your mother, right? I've heard she's sick, you better go take care of her, David." Her features softened a bit, but even so, she stood her ground, without even giving him a clue, making his frustration worse.

"Fine, I'll go find her." He turned around without bothering to wait for a possible reply, hurrying to get out of there and wondering what the next step should be.

He did not go far, though. "She's here, but she's fine." He stopped without turning, but listening intently, his entire body tense. "She's here because she gave birth two days ago." The moment Regina's words reached his ears and his brain processed them, he felt his heart fall to his feet and all the air left his lungs, making it difficult to breathe.

He turned slowly as he squeezed his brain in an attempt to make the necessary mental calculations. The memory of one night, nine months ago, when they said goodbye after his brief visit due to his mother's birthday came to his mind, hitting him hard.

"I’ve become a father." He muttered, while he was still shocked by the news, unable to process it correctly.

"I'm afraid not." This time, Regina’s voice came with a tone of some sympathy, her expression somewhat contrite. "There's a blank space in the biological father section of the baby's birth certificate, David. Besides..." She paused for a moment, averting her gaze. "...I'm sorry. She has already been adopted."

"No..." A sinking feeling took hold of him, as he felt his knees weakening to the point that he had to grab onto a nearby chair to avoid falling. His head began to spin, making it impossible to process such amount of information and mixed feelings in such a short space of time.

"This is your mother's fault, isn't it? She may have manipulated her in a way as to push her to give up her own baby." He reproached her weakly, all his strength and determination had left him, leaving in their place a sense of defeat and helplessness difficult to bear.

"You may not see it that way now, but Mary Margaret has made the best decision. Think about it, David. What future could you give to that baby? Mary Margaret is just a girl and even you, with all that bravado, you're not more than a child still, with the responsibility of taking care of your sick mother. You have nothing to offer that baby. Doesn't she deserve her best chance?"

Regina's words, accompanied by her expression, were almost convincing as if she really believed what she was saying. Probably because being a twenty years old young woman meant that she had a promising future ahead of her. But he suspected that Cora's machinations were behind that learned speech. She might even have used the same reasons to convince and manipulate Mary Margaret.

He felt like a lost child, in the middle of a cafe full of strangers, his whole body longing to run to take refuge in the arms of his mother. That was not an option anymore, not when she was still recovering.

But maybe he could still help Mary Margaret get through this bad time; maybe they could comfort each other. David shook his head, pressing his lips together and giving Regina one last look of resignation. To her credit, she looked away immediately, while he could almost detect a shadow of shame in her eyes.

David turned around and began to wander the corridors of the hospital aimlessly, totally lost in his thoughts, unable to process what had happened in that short time. He had become a father in one second, and in the next one, that possibility had been ripped away, without giving him time to understand the implications.

Maybe it was instinct, maybe destiny - whatever it was, without hardly intending it, he ended up in the maternity section of the hospital. He looked around the numerous doors that appeared along the corridor, wondering behind which one Mary Margaret would be.

Only then did he realize something he had overlooked in his conversation with Regina. She had referred to the baby as her. _A girl_. His daughter, snatched from his arms without even having the chance to meet her. His knees weakened further to the point that he had to sit in one of the chairs along the corridor as he squeezed his eyes in a vain attempt to stop the tears from falling down his cheeks.

His inner turmoil was such that he felt he was going to get physically sick at any moment, the full weight of loneliness falling on him, while guilt, shame and despair, dug a deep hole in his heart.

He took a shuddering breath, while resting his head against the wall, making an attempt to pull himself together. He remained in that pose, his heart hammering in his chest, for what seemed like hours, though probably only a few minutes had passed.

Suddenly a sound reached his ears, causing his whole body to become tense. The crying of a baby. An idea jumped into his mind as his brain began to run at full speed. His daughter had been born two days ago, which meant that she might still be in the hospital. His gaze began to travel frantically to one side of the corridor to another, while looking for something, any hint that could lead him to know the whereabouts of the baby.

David almost uttered a triumphant shout as his gaze fell on a sign that indicated the direction of the newborn nursery. Without thinking twice he ran off in that direction, while a faint flame of hope ignited in his heart.

He only slowed down when he saw the room and its large windows, the only separation between him and his daughter. Without even realizing it, he was there, his forehead pressed against the window as his gaze traveled across the room. There were only three cribs occupied in the middle of a sea of empty cribs. His eyes then fell on the only crib with a pink symbol — the other two had it blue. It was at that moment when he knew with absolute certainty that he had found his daughter.

He narrowed his eyes in an attempt to absorb the image in front of him - a tiny baby wrapped in a blanket sleeping peacefully and a glimpse of her angelic face. His forehead pressed even more against the glass, along with the palms of both hands as if with that action he had the ability to fuse with the glass or cross it, removing the barrier that prevented him from holding his daughter.

Out of the corner of his eye, he detected some movement inside the nursery. His heart dropped to his feet when he saw how a nurse approached his daughter's crib and picked her up, disappearing with her through a side door. He looked around, not knowing what to do next, hopelessness overtaking him. He was not prepared to say goodbye to his daughter. Not yet.

A few minutes later, the same nurse appeared through one of the doors that led to the hall where he was standing, still holding the baby in her arms, stepping steadily towards the waiting room.

"Wait!” David almost shouted as he ran to catch up with the nurse.

To his relief, the woman stopped and turned, her brows drawn together in confusion. "How can I help you?" she asked in a gentle voice, but with a hint of caution.

"I... I think I'm her father." He muttered, pointing at the baby, while his heart clenched in his chest at the sound of the word uttered by his own, broken voice.

David realized that he had made a mistake the moment the words slipped through his mouth. The nurse gave him a cautious look, while she pulled the baby toward her in a protective manner. "I'm afraid you're wrong." She mumbled and began to turn around without giving him a chance to reply.

He didn't give up, though. "Please... I’m not pretending ...I know her adoptive parents are waiting for her, I get it. I just want to see her, just one last time, please." His voice sounded almost like a plea, while he felt a sting behind his eyes, tears threatening to fall again, but at that moment he couldn't care less.

The nurse seemed hesitant for a few seconds, her gaze traveling from him to the baby in her arms and then to the hallway, which, surprisingly, was empty at the time. But his words must have had the desired effect since she finally took pity on him.  "Just for a second." She whispered, while unwrapping a little the blanket that covered the baby, showing her tiny face.

This time David could not help the tears falling freely, soaking his cheeks, as he approached the nurse with hesitant steps. And there she was, his daughter, his little baby girl, so small and at the same time so perfect. He had to suppress the impulse to snatch her from the hands of the nurse and never let her go. Even with his mind clouded by shock and his adolescent impulsiveness, he was aware that this movement would have brought nothing but difficulties.

A new sensation blossomed in his heart and spread throughout his body. Love was powerful, no doubt. He might only have known that little person's existence for just a few minutes and he would have to say goodbye to her forever in just a few seconds. But there was an absolute certainty in all this and that was his utter, pure and infinite love for her.

His entire body tingled with the desire to feel the warmth of her little body. Sadly, he had to settle for caressing his tiny face and hand, trying to convey with that little touch all the devotion he already felt for his little girl. Just then, the baby opened her eyes, giving him a look through her eyes with a mixture of blue and green, while her tiny hand wrapped his index finger with unusual force. His lips drew an involuntary smile in the sea of tears that ran down his cheeks, while a sound, half laughter, half sob escaped from his mouth. He tried to retain this moment in his memory and make it eternal.

"Sorry, we have to leave." The nurse's voice broke the spell, as she gave him an apologetic look.

He ignored her for a moment, still reluctant to let her go so soon as he leaned over and gave her a tender kiss on her forehead and then whispered, "Have a good life, sweetheart."

Concluding the moment, the nurse wrapped the baby again in her blanket protectively and, after giving him one last look, she began to turn towards the waiting room. Something caught his attention at the last moment, before his daughter disappeared completely from his sight. A name embroidered on the blanket with purple letters. _Emma_.

* * *

 

###  **David Nolan. Storybrooke - December 5, 2017**

David was exhausted after a long day of work that Tuesday. Sometimes he wondered how a town as small as Storybrooke could generate so much news to keep him in the office until late afternoon. But luckily it was over. On the way home, he shot a quick message to Mary Margaret to inform her that he would take care of dinner tonight.

That was the reason why he had ended up at Granny's, looking for some takeaway food. While waiting at the counter, his gaze wandered around the room, stopping immediately as his eyes fell on her, his daughter.

His heart skipped a beat when he realized that she was smiling, a bright smile with the ability to light up the whole place. A smile with a specific receiver - his friend Killian.

The corners of his lips also moved upward as a warm sensation spread to his heart, since the smile drawn on Emma's face implied calm, comfort and even a hint of happiness. And the fact that, in one way or another, Killian was the architect of it made him feel proud and also relieved, because, regardless of those demons that still stalked his friend, he seemed to have found a small haven of peace.

Or at least that's what David expected since he could not see Killian's features, because he sat with his back to him. Whatever they were talking about, it seemed to be related to photography. Emma looked from time to time at the camera screen in front of her while she shared words with Killian. It seemed to be a relaxed conversation, and, at least on Emma's part, it was as if there were no one else around, just the camera and Killian.

His brow furrowed slightly as he wondered why Killian had not told him anything about these encounters. An idea popped into his mind at that very moment, causing his smile to widen and his heart to swell with pride. Could it be that Emma was the hidden talent that Killian always tried to look for in his courses?

He made a mental note to ask Killian when he saw him this Thursday, at the dinner he had agreed to attend and that would allow them to have that deep conversation after their confrontation last Saturday. Since that day, nerves had seized his stomach and had barely left him a moment of rest, as he feared how his friend would react, especially now that it seemed clear that there was a kind of bond between him and Emma.

He let out a sigh while burying those thoughts at least until the inevitable moment arrived. Once the food was ready, he paid as he nodded at the waitress and headed for the exit.

Before opening the door, he cast one last glance at Emma, who looked at him at that moment. It was then that she offered him a warm smile from the distance, causing his heart to melt a little bit in the process. He smiled back, and was about to leave when he noticed that Emma made a comment to Killian, pointing to him.

His friend turned around instantly, looking for him. Once their eyes met, Killian sent him a smile as he waved his hand. David raised the arm that held the bag with the food and then made a gesture with his free hand indicating that he would call him. After one last look at the two most important people in his life along with Mary Margaret, he finally left the premises.

The nerves had not disappeared despite seeing his friend relaxed, but at least they had given him some peace of mind — and hope —to face what could be a turning point in his life.

After almost five months living in Storybrooke, their encounters with Emma had been brief in time and widely spaced, since he had refused to let Regina introduce them. But keeping distance was no longer an option, not when their only wish was to keep their daughter close and start generating new memories as a whole family.

They were not ready to confess to Emma, not when they were aware of her past life full of misfortunes and her tendency to run away from problems or when she felt threatened. They could not risk destroying the life she had gained by returning to Storybrooke, but maybe there was some way to relate to her without having to uncover their secrets. And maybe Killian could play an important role in this scenario. The question was, would Killian be willing to help them? There was only one way to find out.

* * *

 

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke - December 7, 2017**

The aroma of his favorite dish, roasted sea bass, reached Killian’s nostrils even before the door of the Nolans' apartment opened. He could not help the corners of his lips rising slightly in appreciation for Mary Margaret's detail, who proved, once again, to know his preferences well. _It's always better to have a deep conversation after having enjoyed a delicious meal_ , he said to himself in an attempt to gain the necessary strength to face what was to come.

This time it was David who received him, a frank smile on his face and a certain tension on his shoulders. "We gave you a spare key for you to use, not to serve as an ornament on your keychain, you know." David commented without losing his smile as he stepped aside to let him in.

"I know, I know, but I still prefer to knock on the door. I wouldn't like to interrupt in case you are involved in any... compromising activities." He grinned at him, arching an eyebrow in a naughty way and then going in search of Mary Margaret without waiting for an answer.

"You're so gross sometimes..." David scolded, but it was evident from his tone of voice that he was still smiling.

As he walked down the hall, Killian thought that this familiarity was something he would not want to lose for anything in the world. Maybe his friends did not trust him completely to confide their secrets —although he was still awaiting an explanation, which he suspected would not be long in coming— but these small exchanges were not only on one side. That was friendship, wasn't that? Giving and receiving even with small gestures. And if the only thing he could contribute to his friends were photographs and putting a smile on their faces from time to time, so be it. Although, in reality, he came to dinner determined not to hide behind his demons anymore, to show them that they could trust him.

Mary Margaret also received him with a warm smile while she finished the preparations for dinner, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen and her eyes illuminated with that brightness that always characterized her. Maybe his relationship with David was closer, but she was much more than his friend's wife. He felt her almost like an older sister, or something else, someone to turn to for comfort or advice.

"Mmm, that smells delicious, _Ms_. There's no doubt that you know how to get to a man's heart." Killian flattered as he kissed her on the cheek.

She rolled her eyes as her smile widened. "Less compliments and more collaborate. I don't want the dinner to cool down." Then she put a stack of plates in his hands and pushed him gently in the direction of the dining room. "By the way, I'm glad to see you in a good mood, Killian, really." He heard her say while he walked, pulling a smile from his lips along the way.

They had a relaxed conversation throughout the dinner while enjoying good company and delicious food. Killian felt at peace with himself for the first time in a long time, as if he were recalling the old days, those early years in London with the four of them together. Little could they have imagined that those dinners had an expiration date and dark clouds approached threateningly to truncate their happiness. Liam's absence was evident, and there would always be an empty space on the table, both physically and emotionally. Now he just needed to learn to live with that emptiness, following Emma's advice.

Since Mary Margaret had been the one to prepare dinner, he and David took care of clearing the table and cleaning the kitchen before returning to the living room, where she was waiting for them. David sat on the couch, next to his wife, while Killian sat on the loveseat perpendicular to the sofa. As he settled in, he took a deep breath, in an attempt to stay strong to face what was to come.

"Does anyone want a drink, rum, or something?" David offered, as he stood up again in the direction of the cabinet where they kept the drinks.

"I'm fine, thanks, mate." Killian politely refused, unwilling, after his last experience, to fall back into the habit of drinking to muffle or hide his feelings. He did not miss the look of appreciation Mary Margaret gave him, to which he responded with a tiny smile.

"I may need a drink." David mumbled almost to himself visibly nervous as he prepared his drink and headed back to his seat.

All the previous calm was suddenly replaced by an awkward silence, while David and Mary Margaret gave each other sidelong glances, as if instigating each other to start talking. Killian inhaled deeply, letting out the air slowly and decided to get ahead of his friends, in an attempt to smooth the way.

"I'd like to apologize for my rude behavior the other day." His friends looked at him in an instant, David nodding faintly and Mary Margaret offering a small smile. "I was going through a tough time, but that's not an excuse, and neither is hiding in alcohol or locking myself in my apartment, so I'm going to try hard to correct that from now on."

Mary Margaret reached out and gave him an affectionate squeeze on his forearm. "It's okay, Killian, we are aware of what you have gone through and our intention has never been to make it worse, but to help you." She said softly.

He was aware of that, although sometimes it was hard for him to accept it. Even so, he still had more to say. "I also understand that you haven't trusted me for support from your own demons. I was a complete mess, I got it."

He swallowed before continuing, an overwhelming sensation settled in his stomach. David opened his mouth then to intervene, but Killian raised his hand to stop him. "Let me finish, mate. I'll never be able to thank you enough for everything you have done for me and especially for this opportunity of a fresh start you have given me. I was about to throw it all away the other day, but that will not happen again." His gaze traveled from David to Mary Margaret trying to convey with his eyes the determination imprinted on his voice. "I'm going to work from now on to regain your confidence in me, so here I am, guys, for whatever you need." He extended both arms to emphasize his words, hoping he would have been convincing enough for them to blindly trust his words.

A wave of affection towards his friends washed over him as he checked their reaction. Mary Margaret's eyes filled with tears as she intensified the squeeze on his forearm. David instead, after giving him a brief and intense look, turned his gaze away, while he remained pensive for a few seconds. From his position on the edge of the couch, Killian could tell that he was still tense, his fingers absently sliding over the rim of his glass. "I... we... it may be time to take you up on that offer." David looked back into his eyes, a shadow mixed with what looked like guilt and pain, crossing his face.

"Yeah, we may need your help." Mary Margaret's voice came in a tentative rustle, the corners of her lips moving slightly upward.

The relief Killian felt at hearing their words was immense. It was as if suddenly, he had removed an oppressive weight that prevented him from breathing normally. Now he felt lighter, willing to do anything to make him feel useful to his friends. "Whatever you need, just say the word." He assured.

"It'd be better if we give you the background." David continued, as he exchanged a meaningful look with his wife and nodded almost imperceptibly. Then his eyes met his. "We... we're parents - or we were. I was at least for a split second. I'm not sure anymore how to catalog us, honestly."

His smile disappeared from his lips as his eyebrows went together in confusion, not quite sure that he had heard correctly. "What?" It was the only thing he was able to say before his throat closed. _We were parents_. What the hell did that mean? Suddenly, those horrible thoughts that crossed his mind while talking to Emma the other day returned with full power. _No, it wasn't possible, wasn't it?_ Fortunately, Mary Margaret continued speaking to give a bit of clarity to David's confession.

"We are parents." She stated categorically. "We may not have ever acted as such, but we will always be her biological parents."

"Her?" _As in a daughter?_ His head began to spin, unable to process the information. "I'm afraid I'm not following you. What's going on here, guys?"

After a new exchange of glances, it was Mary Margaret who decided to continue with the explanations. Before she began to speak, though, a strange sensation settled in the pit of his stomach, as if a bad omen was hovering over them. Killian decided to ignore those disturbing thoughts and focused on his friend's explanation instead. "Everything happened twenty-eight years ago." She began, her voice slightly trembling, her eyes probably lost at some point in that time interval.

For the next few minutes, Killian remained enraptured and half stunned at the story that Mary Margaret was telling him, peppered occasionally by David's brief interventions. This was how Killian discovered that Mary Margaret had learned that she was pregnant at the age of seventeen, while David was away studying. She was no more than an orphan girl with no one to lean on and her stepmother, her father's ex-wife and who had decided to take care of her after the death of her beloved father, took advantage of it, manipulating her at her convenience to the point of getting Mary Margaret to decide to give her daughter up for adoption.

Killian's hand closed into a fist and his jaw clenched, while an unusual rage began to flow inside him. "Let me see if I've understood well. You're telling me that that horrible woman took advantage of your vulnerable situation? You were just a girl." He snapped harsher than he intended, but he was a bit shocked by what he was hearing. He did not even want to imagine what hurtful comments that woman would have used to convince her.

"Don't waste your energy on her, Killian. She got what she deserved." David intervened in an attempt to calm him down. "All her machinations had only one goal - to isolate Mary Margaret - to try to reach the inheritance left by her father. She may have separated us from our daughter, but she died without having managed to touch a penny of her money."

"Not that my father had a large amount of money, honestly, but I couldn't access the inheritance until I turned eighteen, and by that time, it would be too late to take care of my daughter..." Mary Margaret's voice trailed off, clearly overwhelmed by remembering the past. She closed her eyes for a moment, while David stroked her hand gently.  "Also, sadly, when I finally had access to the inheritance, we had to sell my father's house to get the necessary funds to help Ruth with her illness." David's gaze was absent, probably had traveled several years ago while listening to his wife.

After taking a shuddering breath, she continued telling him how her life was from the moment she gave up her daughter. By the words of both, Killian inferred that David had never agreed with that decision, but had no choice but to accept that it was already too late when he found out.

But once David had returned he did it to stay, determined not to let Cora take advantage of her anymore. By the time she had turned eighteen, she had left her stepmother's house to move in with David and his mother. They had been together since then, only separating for brief intervals of time.

Over the next few years, they had lived in Storybrooke, but it was too painful for them, a permanent reminder of what could have been. For that reason, when David's mother died, there was nothing to tie them there, so they had left behind their painful memories in search of a new beginning.

"And this is where you and your brother come in." David confirmed through a melancholic smile. It was evident in both of their expressions that they were having a terrible time reliving those memories so painful for them. He could not even put himself in the shoes of his friends, wondering how they might feel about losing their daughter forever, when the deep love they felt for her was evident.

"Did you never try to find her?" He asked softly, he did not intend to judge, only to understand.

David shook his head while squeezing his eyes with one hand. "I was tempted hundreds of times from the moment of knowing she existed, but it was a closed adoption, and we really trusted in giving our daughter her best chance. We wouldn't have had anything to offer her at the beginning except our love for her. We didn't even have a home of our own, nor money. We did not have a future to offer her." David trailed off, clearly overwhelmed by the painful memories.

"We never talked about it in London. Our intention was never to forget, but to put some distance from what had happened to us, in an attempt to lighten the burden." Mary Margaret continued, giving him an apologetic smile.

"Except for one night. It was on her tenth birthday. We had met you a year ago and you were still a teenager, not much older than her, and seeing you like that, by our side, so full of life, made me feel guilty since we couldn't offer the same to our daughter. I decided to drown my sorrows in alcohol, but I didn't even get to the second shot before Liam discovered me, and instead of using alcohol, I used him as a shoulder to cry on. I made him promise later that he would never talk about this again, not even with you."

This time it was his turn to squeeze his eyes in an attempt to prevent his tears from falling, while the affection he felt toward the Nolans became even more intense.

"And it's thanks to her, our daughter, that we ended up back in Storybrooke, and so it would seem for you. She's the indirect cause that you have now the chance to move on."

His eyes widened at the unexpected words of Mary Margaret. "What? Did you find her?"

"Well, Regina, Cora's daughter did it, by chance at first, but she got her to stay in. I guess that was her way of making up for what her mother did to us." She continued in a soft tone, but Killian detected a slight inflection in her voice which, along with her comment about Regina, made all his inner alarms jump as he felt a weird sensation gripping his stomach.

"And this is where you appear, Killian." David added tentatively, causing his stomach to tighten even more in anticipation and perhaps fear for what he was about to hear. "You know her."

"How can I get to know her if I've been here just for two months?" _Emma is also an orphan_ , his mind did not hesitate to remind him, but he refused to accept it. _No, it can’t be._

"It's Emma, Killian. Our daughter is Emma Swan."

Mary Margaret's last confession caused Killian to get up suddenly and begin to walk up and down the living room, while his mind worked frantically, trying now to remember everything he knew about Emma. "Bloody hell." He murmured in a thin voice, the lump formed in his throat preventing him from uttering more words. _She doesn't know it_. How was it possible? He turned to face his friends. "She doesn't know anything about this, does she? Why?" He snapped, not bothering to hide his inner turmoil. If he had been in other circumstances he would have found even funny how his mood had changed in just a few seconds.

"It's complicated." Mary Margaret admitted hesitantly as she wrung her hands in a nervous gesture.

"Complicated." He cocked his head, studying his friends. "You are saying that you came here in search of your daughter but after five months, she still does not know the truth? Why?"

"Because all our hopes vanished the moment we arrived here and learned the truth." David almost shouted, the pain evident both in his voice and in his expression. "I do not know how much she has told you about her past. But it's been miserable, Killian." He continued in a defeated tone, his brow furrowed with wrinkles, a shadow of guilt crossing his gaze.

"She has only given me a glimpse, but enough so that I can get an idea." Killian admitted.

“How do you think we felt when we found out that her adoptive parents died when she was only three years old? That from that moment, her life became a torment, being transferred from house to house? That she was even incarcerated when she was barely eighteen?" Mary Margaret's voice trailed off, choking on a sob. Luckily David hugged her immediately, both seeking comfort in each other. Killian was not sure he was of any help at that time, not when he felt that he was breaking inside. Because he should have known all this from Emma’s mouth, not by third parties. How could he look her in the eye now knowing this secret?

"We can't risk her losing everything she's achieved since she came here." David muttered, as he wrapped his wife’s shoulders in a protective attitude. "She has friends, a job, stability. She even seems happy. How do you think she will react when she finds out the truth? At best, she will lock herself away, creating a wall around her. At worst, she will run. It wouldn't be the first time she’s done it, according to Regina."

"I'm sorry... I don’t know... this is too much." He rubbed his hand over his face and hair, feeling the frustration creep over him. "Bloody hell. What are we supposed to do now?" He questioned more for himself.

"I'm sorry we got you in the middle of all this." Mary Margaret's voice had recovered a little, giving way to a hint of determination. "But we know that you have seen her beyond the classes and we thought that you would understand both her and us."

"She's the hidden talent, isn't she?" David asked without bothering to hide the pride he felt.

"Aye. She's brilliant." Killian admitted as his lips drew an involuntary smile. The image of a smiling Emma holding her camera came to his mind as clearly as if he had her in front of his eyes, managing to calm him down a bit.

"And you're helping her realize her full potential." Mary Margaret confirmed more than questioned. He could only nod. "Good, because that's where you could help us."

"How?" Again the confusion gripped him as he was not sure he wanted to hear what was coming next.

"Providing encounters between us and her."

His heart froze at the words of his friend. "You can’t be serious, mate." He shook his head, refusing to accept the request of his friends.

"Please, Killian. We just want her to know us. I know we lost the opportunity to be her parents when we gave her up for adoption, but we can not stand to stay away from her anymore. We only ask for an opportunity to create a bond, even if it's friendship, anything that allows us to be by her side." Mary Margaret's voice sounded almost like a plea, traveling directly to his heart.

Killian exhaled deeply in an attempt to calm his rapid breathing. Such was the agitation that he was feeling in those moments that he felt he could pass out at any moment, due to the pressure to which he was being subjected. Because the reality was that he could not refuse the request of his friends, not with his previous speech, not when he had not had anything to offer them until now. But something told him that if he accepted their request for help, he would be entering the lion's den, and would be risking failing not only to his friends but to Emma herself.

"You don't have to decide, now, Killian. You don't even have to accept. Nothing is going to change between us." David searched his eyes, speaking to him in a calm voice. Killian saw raw honesty in the depth of his blue eyes, as well as immense pain and guilt. Maybe the burden Killian carried on his shoulders was barely bearable. But now that he put himself in David's shoes, he could not even imagine what it would be like to lose a daughter that way and now that she was back within reach, they had no choice but to refrain for fear of hurting her further in the process.

After taking another deep breath, he made a decision.

"Fine, I'll do it but with one condition. You tell her the truth when you have created that bond. She can not live that lie forever. She deserves to know the truth and have the opportunity to decide what path she wants to follow, even if we get hurt in the process. She's at a disadvantage now and it's not fair." Killian warned by giving his voice more determination than he actually felt.

Mary Margaret threw herself into his arms at that moment, without giving him time to react, burying her face in his chest as she mumbled her gratitude in a loop. Killian's eyes met David's while he wrapped his arms around Mary Margaret hesitantly, still overwhelmed by the whole situation.

"Of course, Killian, you're right. Thank you so much. This means the world to us, really.” David's voice was also charged with emotion, which did not help to calm his inner turmoil.

He nodded silently before closing his eyes and clinging to Mary Margaret, feeling like the two of them were looking for each other's support in that impulsive hug. The gripping fear didn't disappear from his stomach, though, while an oppressive sensation settled in his chest. He kept wondering if he would be able to handle the situation the next time he saw Emma. A new sensation, this time of bitterness, ran through his whole body, when for the first time, he admitted that his feelings for Emma were real - that for the first time in a long time he had allowed himself to open his heart again. But something told him that said heart was going to end up shattered into pieces in some way. And, unfortunately, he did not seem capable of doing anything to avoid it. His possible future with Emma faded between his fingertips before he even reached it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me... 
> 
> Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)
> 
> What to expect from the next chapter? It will be the longest of the entire fic for one reason, or for a few, really. Several talks, a new couple in the making, some confessions, a snowball fight, photos (lots of them) and we'll see if Killian is able to fulfill his part of the deal by helping his friends. In compensation for its absence in the last three chapters, the following will be written only from Emma's pov.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several talks, a new couple in the making, some confessions, a snowball fight, photos (lots of them) and we’ll see if Killian is able to fulfill his part of the deal by helping his friends. In compensation for its absence in the last three chapters, this chapter will be written only from Emma’s pov.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving for all those who celebrate! I’d like to take advantage of this festivity to thank all the @captainswanbigbang mods for doing an amazing job organizing this event. I’d also like to express my gratitude to all those who have given this story a chance, thanks for your likes, comments, kudos and reblogs. It means the world to me. 
> 
> I'd like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta, Amy. I’m aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.
> 
> Go visit Kate's blog and enjoy her amazing art. There is no specific art for this chapter, but the picset of the previous chapter also serves for this. In addition, the photo from Emma's Instagram account will be part of the fan art that Kate has created for an upcoming chapter.
> 
> Sara, thank you for everything.

# CHAPTER 7

_My dearest Emma,_

_I don't know how to start this letter... but I'll do my best. I don't even know if your adoptive parents have kept the name your mother chose for you. The social worker assured us that they had accepted, but I guess we'll always have that uncertainty. Anyway, for us, you will always be our Emma._

_Today is a special day, your first birthday. I would like to send you my best wishes for this first celebration, the first of many, if only in the form of this letter, with the hope that perhaps one day, these words will come to you in one way or another._

_Maybe we can establish a new tradition in our lives from now on, what do you think? Maybe we can take advantage of this special day to contact you through these little missives, to express how we feel in your absence, to convey that no matter how much time passes, you will always have a place in our hearts, Emma._

_It's only been a year, but we've probably missed many of your most important milestones: your first smile, your first steps, maybe your first words. I hope your parents were able to immortalize those moments in some way. And maybe one day, you can help us to remember them through those images._

_I would like to talk to you a little about us now. Your mother has already turned eighteen and has finally been able to leave the house of that evil woman, the person who managed to separate us from you. Now, she is living with us and nothing and nobody will be able to separate us - ever - despite all the obstacles that get in our way._

_It's hard, though, to be separated from you and have no certainty of how you are, if you are growing up happy. I truly hope so and that with our act, we have managed to offer you a future. And maybe, in a few years, we will be part of that future as well._

_Until then, I can only wish you a happy and full life._

_Your father who loves you and never forgets you,_

_David._

* * *

 

**Emma Swan. Storybrooke - December 9, 2017**

The moment Killian came through the door to the classroom the following Saturday Emma knew something was wrong. As in the last class, the first thing he did was to look for her until their eyes met and he offered her a smile, but this time, his smile not only did not reach his eyes but it seemed forced.

Emma turned her gaze to the window on her left, and let her eyes roam the streets of Storybrooke, while a strange sensation settled in the pit of her stomach.

The images of their two shared kisses, those that she herself initiated, jumped into her mind at that moment as a reminder, or rather as a warning. Their dangerous game had begun at the moment when she, in a defiant and impulsive movement, had pulled him into a searing kiss, with the capacity of shaking her up and down both metaphorically and literally.

She had fled after throwing the " _a one-time-thing_ " statement while cursing herself for letting her feelings, or rather, her physical impulses, cloud her reason.

She could not risk everything she had gotten when she decided to stay in Storybrooke, she should not let anything or anyone get too close to her heart since that would pose a threat, a possibility that it would be broken again.

But that damned Killian had gotten under her skin in such a way that she could not think of anything other than the softness of his lips against hers, his wrecked expression, his intense gaze bored into hers. She did not even need him to be in her presence, just a simple text sent by him or the memory of some of his explanations in his melodious voice were enough to make her body betray her, humming with a craving for more.

It was as if Storybrooke had weakened all her principles, causing the walls around her heart to begin to crack, as she had succumbed again to the temptation of his lips. And although she tried to convince herself, assuring herself that it was no more than a simple physical attraction, deep down she was aware that she was totally seduced by Killian.

Their second kiss had also been caused by an impulse. She could not bear to see the suffering reflected in his face, so she had acted in an almost desperate attempt to alleviate that suffering or at least make him forget for a moment.

Even though they had seen each other again after the kiss and his behavior had been the usual, perhaps he had understood her reluctance in the wrong way, or perhaps, even though she had not yet revealed much of herself, he had come to the conclusion that she was not worth the effort, maybe…

“Emma?”

The sound of a voice brought her back to reality. She straightened in her seat as her head turned in the direction of the sound, meeting Elsa and Anna and their inquiring looks, with a hint of concern in Elsa's eyes and one of amusement in her sister's.

"Are you okay?" Elsa asked quietly.

"Yeah, I got distracted." She mumbled a poor excuse, feeling a bit uncomfortable at their scrutiny.

"I bet I know the cause of your distraction." Anna said, tilting her head slightly in Killian's direction, her lips curled upward in a conspiratorial smile, as if they were sharing a secret, but to Emma, it meant that her sensation of uneasiness increased.

"Anna!" Elsa muttered under her breath, scolding her sister. Then she addressed Emma back. "Don’t listen to her. We just wanted to know if you would like to join us to practice."

"To practice..." Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion as her gaze roamed around the classroom. In fact, the rest of the students had split up into teams and were beginning to manipulate their devices. Emma shifted uncomfortably in her seat wondering how long she had been lost in thought.

"We’re practicing white balance." Elsa came to her rescue while giving her a soft smile.

Her sister, however, did not seem so diplomatic. "Wow, you were really distracted.” She grinned at her as she cast a sidelong glance at Killian.

Was she really that obvious? She had to find out. "What do you mean?"

Anna rolled her eyes as she deliberately ignored her sister's warning look. "Do you remember that our ice cream parlor is in front of Granny's? We were witnesses of an intimate moment between you two on Sunday."

Emma felt a flush of embarrassment burning her cheeks as she wished to merge with her seat and disappear. She recovered rapidly though. No way was she going to show any hint of vulnerability to two people she barely knew. "It was just a kiss." She muttered in a dismissive tone while shrugging her shoulders.  "And we'd better start practicing." She added in an attempt to change the subject.

Elsa nodded and grabbed her camera, but Anna did not seem to take the hint, much to her disgrace.

"Just a kiss?" She snorted, getting some heads to turn in her direction. "Are you kidding me? You two were making out." Emma opened her mouth to interrupt her, but Anna continued with her speech. "And it's not that I was stalking you, or anything like that. I was just waiting for Kristoff, but you two were giving quite the show out there." Emma's cheeks began to burn again as her desire to fade or run away increased. At least Anna was wise enough to mumble her words, but after a small pause to take a breath, she continued. "Isn’t it the coolest thing? The teacher and the student sharing a romantic moment?"

"Anna - enough! Don’t you see that you're making her feel uncomfortable?" Elsa hissed, coming to her rescue again. But Emma’s relief was short-lived. After giving one last warning glance to her sister, Elsa turned to her, her lips drawing a shy smile. "I know it's none of my business, but you two make a beautiful couple, Emma."

"Ahem, ladies, I wouldn’t like to interrupt your deep conversation, but it may be more convenient if you leave it for the end of the class. We have work to do now." This time it was Killian who came to her rescue, although his intervention did nothing to mitigate her embarrassment. In fact, it was quite the contrary, as Emma felt like a child receiving a reprimand after committing mischief.

At least his attention call got her teammates to finally leave her alone. It was almost comical to see how their contrite expressions matched as they both turned their eyes to their respective cameras.  
  
Emma cast a sidelong glance at Killian, anxious and fearful of what she might find. When their eyes met, he cocked his head slightly and arched one of his eyebrows, as if he wanted to make sure she was okay.  
  
She nodded silently, curling her lips into a small smile. To her relief, Killian returned a genuine smile, while his eyes remained locked with her own, causing a warm sensation to spread to her heart, making the previous tension and uncertainty fade away.

The rest of the class continued smoothly. Once the two sisters decided to leave behind their gossip and focus on photography, Emma found herself enjoying the practice. Both, Elsa and Anna, were pleasant company and seemed to have a genuine interest in learning. She was grateful to feel included in a group, to be part of something, contrary to what happened in the first class.

The class came to an end without Emma hardly noticing. Reluctant to leave so soon, she took her time collecting her belongings as she watched the others leave the classroom.  
  
The last ones to leave were the two sisters and Emma tensed instantly, fearing that they would try to hook her into an embarrassing conversation again. That did not happen though, since Elsa practically dragged her sister towards the exit. Before leaving, both turned and waved, while Anna pointed her head in a non-subtle gesture towards Killian. After Elsa's last gentle pull, both finally disappeared from her sight.

Killian didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave either, since he remained in his seat, his gaze focusing on some files on his desk. After taking a deep breath, Emma slung the camera bag over one shoulder and approached him.

"I'm sorry for what happened before," she commented, pointing to her seat as she looked at him from under her lashes.

When Killian looked up and met her gaze, she swallowed and licked her lips instinctively, cursing inwardly at the power he had over her. Only an intense look on his part was enough for her to get lost in his stormy blue eyes. But if he also smiled at her the way he was smiling now, she lost all ability to function properly. _Bastard._

"It's okay, lass." He replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "The only reason I interrupted the conversation was because you didn’t seem especially comfortable."

“Thank you… I guess.”

They remained silent for a few seconds, while Killian got up and began to gather his belongings. Emma stood there, hesitating whether to leave or wait for him, but then she caught a shadow darkening his expression, just as at the beginning of the class.

It was then that she remembered something. Killian had told her that he would talk to his friends to clear things up. Maybe that conversation hadn’t gone well?  
  
"Are you... Are you okay? You seem a little off.”  
  
Killian's face softened instantly. "Everything is fine, love. A little tired, that's all." Killian assured her in a tone that seemed convincing, but that did not quite reassure her, not when his smile did not reach his eyes.  
  
"You managed to fix things with your friends?" Emma insisted, because that was what friends were supposed to do, right? Try to comfort each other. Although she was not sure that this was the most appropriate way to bring up the subject. She needed practice in the friendship thing, a concept still so new to her.

"Aye, we did." Killian hurried to answer, his lips twisted in an attempt at a smile as he reached behind his ear to scratch. "It was a long time ago, I was just a child, that’s why they didn’t tell me, but everything is fine now."

There was more than that. Emma could tell by the way he turned his gaze away slightly as if he felt uncomfortable in some way. But she would not push, it was not her business, after all. "I’m glad to hear that." She said simply.

She did not want to leave, but she did not have any excuse to stay either. For that reason, she started walking towards the exit door. "I better go. See you on Tuesday?"

"Wait, I'm leaving, too." Killian grabbed the backpack and started walking in her direction. "In fact, I'm hungry. Do you mind accompanying me to Granny's to get a bite?"  
  
Killian dropped the invitation in a nonchalant tone, as if it had just occurred to him, but the glint in his eyes and that damn smile of his indicated something different. So, even at the risk of continuing to fall into his clutches, she accepted. "Yeah, I'm starving."

It was the moment they arrived at the diner and Ruby received them with a smirk while she arched her eyebrows meaningfully when Emma realized that this encounter was the closest thing to a date she had had in years. This time, the photography lessons had not acted as an excuse, nor was there a need to vent. Emma ignored both Ruby and those thoughts and instead dragged Killian to one of the more distant booths.

Emma had been honest with Killian when she assured him she wanted them to know each other. But the walls around her heart had been up for so long that it was difficult for her to find a crack that would allow her to open up. And this improvised meal would allow just that, a small step on the way to open, a means to share more moments with Killian.  
  
So, she left all her worries behind and focused on Killian. It was not a complicated task, honestly, especially when both shared the same passion for photography. Inevitably, the conversation ended up leading to that topic, although she did not mind in the least, especially when that meant listening completely enthralled as Killian told her some of his experiences as a war reporter.  
  
She was aware that Killian's experiences were far from the fantasy of a movie, that he had witnessed traumatic events and had had to immortalize the terror of other people. Perhaps thanks to his expressiveness or the cadence he endowed his voice with, or perhaps thanks to the content of his experiences - a mix of adventure, risk, and action, his explanations allowed her mind to travel with him to get an idea of what it would be like to live on the edge and feel the adrenaline running continuously through her veins. It was a way to add some emotion to her monotonous life, even if it was through someone else's experience.

He was in the middle of one of his stories when something seemed to catch his attention, causing him to fall into silence suddenly while his body tensed and his gaze traveled to the entrance.  
  
She turned in the same direction, looking for what could have produced that sudden change in him. What she found left her somewhat confused. Killian's friends, the Nolans, had just entered the premises and after waving their hands in greeting, they went straight to their booth, their faces adorned with warm smiles.

"Hey, guys, what a surprise to see you here!" Mary Margaret said in an enthusiastic tone, as soon as they got to where they were sat, while her smile grew wider.  
  
"Hi!" Emma responded by offering a tentative smile, not quite sure how to act, since, although she knew the couple by sight, they had never been introduced before.  
  
There was a small, awkward moment while they remained standing there, their smiles not disappearing from their faces as they glanced at Killian, who seemed lost for a second until finally, he reacted.  
  
After clearing his throat and scratching behind his ear, he made the appropriate introductions. It was evident that the tension had not disappeared from his body, but Emma did not have time to evaluate his strange behavior since, without hardly noticing, she was surrounded by Mary Margaret’s arms in an unexpected embrace.  
  
Emma was slow to react, stiffening at first, surprised by so much effusiveness for a stranger, not yet accustomed to so much physical contact.  
  
"It's a pleasure to be able to meet you properly at last, Emma." Mary Margaret did not seem to notice her stiffness, because the hug persisted a couple of seconds more as Emma patted her back tentatively.  
  
Luckily, she did not have to repeat the same action with her husband. David simply offered her his hand while giving her a gentle smile. "It's a pleasure for me too, Emma."  
  
Killian interrupted them then, "We’re in the middle of lunch. Would you like to join us?" His voice trailed off, while he directed his gaze to her, "Do you mind if...?  
  
"Sure, it's not a problem at all." Emma assured as she moved to make room for Mary Margaret. David chose to sit next to his friend.

All of them remained silent for a few seconds, only broken by Ruby, who came over to take note of their orders. Before leaving in the direction of the kitchen, Ruby gave her another meaningful look, which she deliberately ignored. She would have time for explanations later.

"How was the class today?" Mary Margaret was the first to break the ice, her gaze traveling from Emma to Killian. After listening more carefully, Emma realized something curious. Despite being American, there was a slight hint of a British accent in Mary Margaret’s voice, acquired after so many years living in London.  
  
"Killian has told us a lot about you and your talent." David added, not giving her time to answer his wife's question.  
  
A soft blush crawled up her cheeks, while Emma tossed uncomfortably in her seat. "Killian has also told me about you both. It’s good to be able to meet you at last."  
  
She was not accustomed to receiving compliments and even less to others talking among themselves to praise her. It was such a new feeling that she did not really know how to react. "And as for my supposed talent, it's not a big deal, I just push the button and sometimes I'm lucky to capture a good image." She shrugged as she glanced at Killian.

To her surprise, Killian rolled his eyes, the corners of his lips rising slightly. "Since it seems you don’t believe in an expert's word, let's see what another expert in the field has to say." Killian teased as he grabbed her camera. “May I?”  
  
She nodded as she held her breath. Of course, David would also be an expert in photography, how could she have forgotten? He was the director of the local newspaper, for God's sake. Her stomach tightened in knots of anticipation, feeling nervous about what David might think.

"We’ve practiced the white balance today.” Killian explained to his friend as he showed him the photos she had taken a while before. David frowned professionally as he studied the photos intently, causing her nerves to increase.  
  
"They could spend hours observing or taking photographs." Mary Margaret muttered to her side as she offered her a knowing smile. "But I don’t need to see your photographs to be certain of your talent. Killian has that special ability to discover hidden potentials, so if he's sure, so am I."  
  
There was something about Mary Margaret - maybe her soft voice, or her kind expression. Whatever it was, Emma felt enveloped in a sense of reliability and security. Emma smiled back in gratitude, feeling comfortable enough to trust them. "According to Killian, now I just have to learn to use that talent."  
  
"And he's right." David confirmed, still holding a professional expression, though his eyes showed a glimpse of something deeper than Emma could not identify. "There are good pictures there and that was just a practice. If you really like photography, you should continue practicing and learning. And listen to the professionals." Despite the content, his last words did not sound like a reprimand, but rather as a joke - at least she interpreted it as so by his casual tone and the wide smile that he directed at her, leaving behind his professional attitude.  
  
Still, that did not stop her cheeks from blushing again. Fortunately, Ruby arrived at that moment bringing the dishes ordered by the Nolans. When Ruby left, everyone seemed to forget about her and her damned talent, focusing instead on food.  
  
The food acted as a catalyst though, and after a brief pause, a new conversation about Storybrooke and the few places that offered food began.  
  
With the passing of the minutes, Emma felt more and more comfortable with the Nolans, and even Killian seemed more relaxed surrounded by his friends. She did not miss the effort they put into making her feel included in the conversation. The affection and familiarity they felt for Killian and he for them was evident, but the trust between them, far from making her feel excluded, caused her curiosity about these two most important people for Killian to increase. It was as if, knowing as much as possible about the Nolans brought her even closer to Killian.  
  
Maybe that's why she made an effort to improve her social skills by being open and participative.

"So, after so many years living far away, what made you return to Storybrooke?"  
  
Suddenly, Killian started coughing repeatedly. Emma narrowed her eyes in confusion, noting how his cheeks had turned a reddish color, his eyes watering. David was gently tapping his back while Mary Margaret watched him with a worried expression.

"Are you okay?" Emma asked, unable to hide the concern in her voice, as she reached for his hand instinctively.  
  
"Aye, love." Killian managed to respond in a hoarse voice between coughs, while trying to catch his breath. "I just choked because of the bloody beer."  
  
After a few seconds, Killian seemed to recover enough though the tension had returned to his shoulders, making the suspicions that something was wrong to increase.  
  
"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked again, her eyes never leaving his face.  
  
"Aye, lass, just a little tired, that's all." He assured through a weak smile that once again did not reach his eyes.  
  
"You should rest, which means that the time has come to leave." Mary Margaret gestured to David for him to get up, then she turned to Emma. "It has been a real pleasure to chat with you, Emma. I hope we can repeat it soon." Her soft expression and voice seemed to indicate a genuine interest in knowing her, which had the ability to warm her heart.  
  
David also offered a gentle smile before addressing his friend. "Go home and rest, I'll call you later."  
  
Only when they disappeared through the door did Emma realize that they had not answered her question. Something told her, however, that she would have a new opportunity soon. Suddenly, the possibility of adding two more friends to her, rather short list, did not seem bad at all.

* * *

Storybrooke woke up the following Saturday covered by a thick white blanket. Emma chose her favorite place in her apartment, a small bench under the window that opened in the kitchen, to contemplate the first major snowfall of the season, while holding a cup of steaming coffee in her hands, wrapped in her favorite blanket. It was kind of perfect.  
  
She could sit for hours watching the inexorable fall of the snowflakes. It was almost magical, and also calming, to see how the landscape transformed into a huge white canvas.  
  
Suddenly, the need to immortalize that magical landscape took hold of her, so Emma placed the cup on the kitchen countertop and grabbed the camera. After making the adjustments that she believed were necessary, she began to shoot.  
  
The calm did not last long, though. The moment she realized the time, she jumped as she hurried to her bedroom. She had been so absorbed in the snow that she had lost track of time. If she didn’t hurry, she would be late for the photography class.  
  
The little peace that still remained completely disappeared at the moment when she went out and discovered that her bug was covered by a thick layer of snow.  
  
She huffed in annoyance while raising her eyes to the sky. But she was not willing to let anything, not even the inclemency of the weather, make her mood worse, so, after she armed herself with a little patience and resigned to being late, she began to work to unearth her vehicle.

Twenty minutes later, Emma hurried into the classroom, trying to catch her breath, while noticing how a flush spread through her body from the exercise. "I'm sorry... the snow." She muttered an excuse, not bothering to look at Killian, walking to her seat as she began to remove her beanie and other outerwear.

"It isn't necessary for you to take off your coat, lass. In fact, you don't even need to sit down. We're leaving right now."

Emma stopped short, turning around to, this time, look at Killian, unable to hide the confusion on her face. "What?"

"Given that it's indispensable for a photographer to use the resources available or to be able to work in unfavorable circumstances, I thought we could practice taking pictures of the snow." Killian explained in that particular tone of his, with the ability to enrapture anyone who was listening to him. "In addition, we're lucky that I have found a spot in the nearby park which hasn't yet been altered. The white blanket remains intact, or at least it was ten minutes ago, so we better get going, before it's too late and someone ruins our work material."

All the others hummed in agreement, as they picked up their belongings, got up and started heading towards the exit. Emma, however, remained standing awkwardly, still recovering from the race to get to class on time.

"And remember guys, we must take special care with our devices in adverse weather conditions. We don't want our cameras to suffer any damage, do we?" Killian warned his students, earning some nods in response before everyone left the classroom, only she and him remained.

"Sorry, my car was buried by the snow." Emma made a new attempt at apology the moment they were left alone, while Killian approached her, causing the butterflies in her stomach to begin fluttering.

"It's okay, Swan, I figured it." His lips twisted upwards, drawing a frank smile, to her relief. All the weirdness of the previous Saturday seemed to have vanished from his features. Everything had gone well also in Tuesday's practice, his strange previous behavior seemed therefore to be an isolated event.

"There's another thing." He added as if he had just remembered it. "I have decided to invite the students, and you too, of course, to have a drink at Granny's this evening as compensation for my absence a few weeks ago, and also in celebration, since this is the last class of the year."

Emma realized at that moment, that the Christmas break meant they would not see each other and therefore, wouldn't continue with practices for three weeks. Her heart tightened a bit at that prospect, which did nothing to improve her dislike for this particular holiday. "You mean like a pre-Christmas party or something?" She asked, unable to prevent a hint of slight disappointment from slipping into her voice.

Clearly, he had noticed her discomfort since he did not respond immediately. Instead, he cocked his head and stared at her, as if he were studying her. "Look at it this way, it will be like an extra class since we will practice social photos." Killian offered through a half smile, his eyes never leaving her own.

He was so close that she could almost touch him. In other circumstances, or with another person, she would have been immediately intimidated by the invasion of her personal space. With Killian however, she had to repress the impulse to pull him closer to her. She was no longer sure if that need to feel him that close came from the momentary intimacy they were in, from the possibility that they were to be separated for three weeks, or simply from her undeniable attraction to him. But she had learned that lesson and had decided not to act impulsively again. Now it was up to him when he would decide to make the next move.

Fortunately, Killian had brought up their lifeline, photography, so she clung to that. She rolled her eyes in an attempt to hide how she was affected by his mere proximity. "You always have photography in mind, don't you?" She continued before he could reply. "And no, don't come with the excuse of sleep, because I'm sure you also dream of cameras and photos."

The way he chuckled caused tiny wrinkles to appear in the corners of his eyes, while his dimples deepened in a way too adorable for his own good or hers, given the matter.

"Well, lass," his tongue darted out to lick his lips once the laughter subsided. "I can assure you my dreams are plagued in most occasions by other activities even more pleasurable." His silky voice, almost purring, caused a liquid heat to travel to her very core while her mind decided to act on her own, imagining the content of those possible wild dreams.

The bastard knew the effect he was having on her. His lips drew a wide smirk while he reached out his hand, his fingers barely brushing her cheek. She held her breath, her skin tingling in anticipation, her gaze lost in the blue depth of his eyes. "Have I ever told you that I find particularly endearing the way your cheeks blush?"

His touch was as light as a feather, only a faint pressure of his fingertips touching her skin, but that was enough for a chill to run through her body, while her heart threatened to come out of her chest. A furious flush crawled down her neck to her cheeks, as Killian's touch became more intense, causing her instinctively to tilt her head so that it rested on his hand.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke the moment, causing both to jump while Killian withdrew his hand from her face as if it was burning.

"Oh, sorry, guys." It was Elsa the one to blame for the interruption. The poor girl seemed a little embarrassed when she entered the classroom, not daring to look at them. "I... I haven't seen anything, I just forgot my beanie." She muttered as she grabbed the garment and made her way back to the exit. Before leaving though, Elsa looked at her and gave her a soft smile of, she supposed, approval.

The small interruption allowed her to regain some composure. "At least it's not the worst she's seen of us." Now it was her turn to be smirking at him. Two could play the same game. She stuffed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans as she closed the distance between them.

She noticed his Adam's apple bobbing, while his brows knitted together in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Her ice cream parlor is right in front of Granny's and she may have witnessed our little dalliance." She shrugged as she chewed on her bottom lip in a mischievous way. His gaze immediately strayed from her eyes to her lips while his pupils dilated. "And now, maybe it would be better if we leave, in case someone else comes looking for the professor." She wrapped the last word around her tongue making it sound almost indecent.

After offering him one last tempting smile, she turned around in the direction of the door. While walking, she heard a soft groan followed by a broken " _bloody hell_ " making her grin to widen. She was playing a dangerous game, she was aware of it, but for the first time in a long time, she wasn't afraid of the flames of the game burning her, or rather, she didn't mind being consumed by the fire that she was sure Killian Jones kept inside.

* * *

The walk to the park took only a few minutes. When they reached the spot chosen by Killian, Emma couldn't prevent a soft gasp from sliding between her lips, pleasantly surprised to observe the landscape they had before them. A long, white blanket covered the entire surface of the park while the branches of nearby trees also appeared laden with snow. Despite the cold, there was a kind of calm around them, as if time had frozen in the course of the snowfall, drawing a picture that seemed taken from a fairy tale.

She turned her head around to check the reaction of the rest of the students. They seemed equally dazed by the sight of it, all of them gazing silently with wide eyes and slightly open mouths.

It was funny, because Emma was sure that, in other circumstances, this landscape would have gone totally unnoticed by most of them, all too engaged in their daily routine to pay much attention to what was happening around them. But now that they had begun to observe the world through a lens and through Killian's eyes, an infinite number of possibilities opened up before them, allowing them to find beauty in something as dull as a town park.

"Well, guys, I see that the landscape has really left you a little impressed, that's good." Killian addressed them in that professional yet close tone that had Emma completely mesmerized. "Inspiration is the first step to getting good photographs, but remember, we're dealing with snow. The beauty of a snowy landscape is undeniable, but it can also be an added difficulty for us, the photographers."

"Because of the light." Aurora offered tentatively.

"Very good, lass." Killian gave her his most charming smile, causing the girl's cheeks to blush slightly. It was evident that most of the students had fallen under the spell of Killian since, where before there was hardly any interest, now there was a real desire to learn. "Indeed, snow is a great reflector of light, so if we want to achieve the desired effect, we must, amongst other factors, apply the correct exposure compensation."

Killian continued explaining, walking among them to make sure everyone was able to get the correct parameters before starting to take pictures.

Leroy, though, seemed to be losing patience since, a few minutes later, he snapped, "Come on - we're talking about white snow... it can't really be that hard to get a decent picture."

Killian stopped, turning to him as he tilted his head slightly and crossed his arms over his chest. His face seemed unperturbed, but she could feel his tension in the way the muscle in his jaw twitched slightly. "Go ahead - show us." He replied with an even voice while holding his hand out as if to emphasize his words.

Leroy seemed intimidated, both by the challenge that had fallen on him and by the scrutiny he was being subjected to by the others. Emma could not deny that she was enjoying the scene, since Leroy would show himself up the moment he took a photo in automatic mode.

He grabbed his camera and, after casting a defiant look at Killian, shifted his eyes to the viewer without bothering to touch the controls. He took a couple of shots and then observed the results on the screen.

"Well?" Killian asked, a slight hint of annoyance in his voice.

Leroy kept his eyes on the screen for a few more seconds until, finally, he rolled his eyes and let out a sigh of defeat. "The snow is gray." He admitted reluctantly.

"See? This is a clear example that we should never rely on automatic mode, not when we have so many resources at our disposal. Why should not we use them?" To his credit, Killian not only did not kick the guy when he was down, but he channeled what happened to continue teaching them. Her admiration for him grew at times.

The moment Killian gave the go-ahead, they started taking pictures. Although it might be contradictory, the action of pressing the button and immortalizing the moment was always relaxing for her. It was as if she lost track of time when her eyesight remained fixed on her camera's viewfinder. Today was not going to be an exception either since, almost without her noticing, Killian began to evaluate their results.

Emma watched as he dedicated the same time to all his students, offering smiles of encouragement as he praised them well for their effort, or for the good result obtained. She also observed how Tink, the only other single girl in the group along with Elsa and herself, lingered during her interactions with Killian, while maintaining an attitude that was perhaps too close, a wide smile and a fluttering of lashes included.

A strange sensation, which she did not dare to name, settled in the pit of her stomach while she did not miss any of their movements. That pull faded though when his eyes fell on Emma, his lips drawing that special smile, just for her.

"Excellent job, lass, as usual." He commented after contemplating her photographs. He held her gaze for a few more seconds, causing the flutter in her stomach to become more intense until finally, he cleared his throat and addressed the others. "And now, guys, I know you're looking forward to it. You can go play in the snow." Indeed, it seemed that all of them had been waiting for the words because, at that moment, they started running as if they were little children who had discovered the snow for the first time.

"And don't forget to protect your cameras!" He shouted at them in warning before they got too far away.

A laugh bubbled in the back of Emma’s throat at the surreal scene, the landscape no longer intact, but full of life now. She was about to make a comment about it to Killian when both Elsa and Anna hooked each of one of her arms. Before being dragged, literally, by the two sisters, Emma offered Killian one last look and an apologetic smile, to which he replied with a smile on his own and a nod of his head.

Emma let herself be carried away by the enthusiasm of the others, participating in group photos, making selfies and even she decided to also collaborate in the construction of a snowman whom Elsa, who loved the snow, decided to name _Olaf_. Even Leroy had left behind his permanent state of grumpiness and Archie, usually serious and the voice of reason, let himself loose a little by joining the others in their games.

She enjoyed more than she imagined, sharing laughs, jokes and knowing glances. She felt lighter, as if she had let part of her baggage escape, while the sense of belonging that had appeared the moment she arrived at Storybrooke became more intense.

Emma was so entertained that didn't realize at first that Killian hadn't joined their improvised snow party. It was Elsa who pointed at him, "What is he doing?" she asked, gesturing towards somewhere behind Emma's back. She turned to follow the direction of her gaze and found Killian, camera in hand, leaning slightly forward while he seemed to try to focus something.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion first and then widened in surprise when Emma realized what he was trying to do. The lens he was using, a macro if she was correct, was the one that gave her the clue.

"He's trying to make a photo of a snowflake." Emma commented almost in awe, unable to hide the pride she felt. She did not need to see the picture to know that it would be perfect.

"Wow, really?" It seemed that she was not the only one affected by Killian's talent, if the hint of admiration in Elsa's voice was indicative.

The fact that he was using his left arm and his prosthesis as if it were something natural in him warmed her heart. His initial reluctance to use the prosthesis seemed completely forgotten. She was not an expert on the subject but Emma sensed that one of the first steps to recovery after a traumatic event was adaptation and acceptance, and Killian seemed to be on the right track.

Almost without realizing it, she was holding the camera and pointing it towards him, immortalizing the way he was working. That was when Killian noticed her, looking away from the viewfinder, searching her eyes.

"Will you show me the result?" Emma asked as she approached him.

"Uh... I think it's better if we wait to see it on a larger screen, and I should also edit the image..."

Emma rolled her eyes at Killian's sudden reluctance. "Let me see if I've understood correctly. You're telling me you just made a picture of a snowflake and you're not going to let me see it. Seriously?" She rushed towards him in an attempt to grab the camera, but he was faster. Before she reached him, he raised the arm that held the device, leaving it out of her reach.

"Oh, come on!" She scoffed while pursing her lips. "I need practical examples if I want to learn how to make these kinds of photos." She did not give up, moving even closer to him, only inches away.

"Uh, maybe this was all I wanted." He leaned and whispered into her ear, his breath caressing her skin and causing a chill to run down her body. "It's freezing here, Swan. I needed a source of heat."

"You don't need to use a poor excuse for that, you know." She suggested, shooting him a provocative look from under her lashes. Indeed, it was as if the temperature had risen several degrees in the last seconds. "Could you show me the picture, please?" Her voice slipped between her lips in a soft murmur, causing the blue color to almost disappear from his eyes as his tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth in an almost indecent way.

For a moment, Emma forgot where they were, but the background noise of the other students brought them back to reality. Killian cleared his throat and, without separating from her, lowered his hand. "If you ask me that way..." He grinned at her before handing her the camera. Any chance of retort died on her lips the moment her eyes fell on the picture, leaving her speechless. Emma was amazed to see the small details and the defined geometric shape that had been captured in the image. It was like contemplating a tiny gem that nature offered them. "I want to learn how to take pictures like that." She muttered under her breath, unable to look away from the screen.

"The lens does practically all the work, actually. You wanna try?" Killian offered in a soft voice.

Of course she wanted to try. But before she had time to look through the viewfinder to locate a snowflake, Killian suddenly wrapped his arms around her and turned her, standing just behind her. "What the hell?" The moment she heard the impact of a snowball against Killian's coat, she realized what was happening.

Killian turned around again, keeping her behind him. "What did I say, guys? Be careful with the cameras!" He yelled, clearly annoyed.

"Sorry, Mr. Jones, it was not my intention." Emma recognized Robin's voice in that sincere apology.

"Your aim is just awful, mate!"

"Oh, shut up, Will!" Emma stuck her head out from behind Killian to see what was happening, it seemed like they all were involved in a snowball fight. Her heart skipped a beat since that was one of the activities she longed for the most as a child when winter came. Unfortunately, there were not many children willing to play with her in those years, so she always had ended up frustrated. But that was not going to happen today, Emma thought with determination.

She left the shelter offered by Killian, standing in front of him and helping to put their respective cameras in the protective bags, placing them on a nearby bench, far enough from where the rest were playing. "Thank you for your act of gentlemanliness. Now, it’s time for a revenge. You wanna join me?"

"Actually I was protecting my camera." He admitted while scratching behind his ear. "But I am always a gentleman." He hastened to add, his lips drawing a smirk.  "Even so, I would prefer not to be included in the snowball fight. I'm at a bit of a disadvantage here." The light tone in his voice and the half smirk on his face seemed to indicate that he was joking, but Emma also detected a certain truth in his eyes.

"Please, that's the worst excuse I've ever heard." Emma rolled her eyes, while bending down quickly and grabbing a handful of snow, squeezing it lightly with one hand to give it consistency. Then, without giving him time to react, she threw the snowball hitting him in the chest. "See?"  
  
She knew that she had acted correctly when he gave her a wild look while muttering, "You just started a dangerous game, Swan." This time it was she who received the impact on one shoulder. The war had begun.

 _And what a war!_ During the following minutes, they became fully involved in the game, sometimes as allies and other times as opponents, throwing snowballs, or receiving hits, running to protect themselves or to reach their target faster. Such was the intensity that they were depositing in the game that the poor Olaf, who stood in the middle of the battlefield suffered the consequences, being knocked down when Robin fell on it in an attempt to protect himself from an impact.

She did not remember having so much fun in her life, to the point that her stomach ached from laughing so much.

Killian also seemed to have the time of his life, if the perpetual smile on his lips, the brighter than ever sparkle in his eyes, and his cheeks flushed as much by the exercise as by the cold were indicative enough. If he was already very handsome, now he was irresistible. For that reason, she tried to stay away from him, since he did not trust herself.

In the end, everyone ended up exhausted, their clothes soaked and Emma was sure that the next day all her muscles would ache and she would have marks of different impacts all over her body, but it would have been worth it, without a doubt. The adrenaline rush had allowed her to release tensions and the game had made her feel even closer to the rest of the students. In fact, after the sad fate of _Olaf_ , they decided to rebuild it, all of them working as a team while she was the person designated to take pictures of the action.

They were engaged in the task when she heard footsteps approaching. She turned to see who had dared to go for a walk despite the cold and snow. Her eyes widened in surprise when she met the Nolans right in front of her, holding hands.

"Oh, what a surprise! What are you doing here, guys?" Mary Margaret asked politely, her lips drawing a soft smile.

"Hi! Killian thought it was a good idea to go out and take pictures of the snowy landscape. Let's say we got carried away a bit by the circumstances." She commented, her smile matching hers, as she turned her head, looking for Killian.

Her smile faltered a little when she realized that Killian's previously relaxed features had now subtly darkened and his shoulders seemed tense. Emma frowned, surprised at the change in his attitude, but calmed down at once when the corners of his lips lifted up drawing a smile while he waved at them.

Maybe it was just a figment of her imagination since she was over-analyzing all his reactions, fearing the possibility that the shoe would drop at some point. Emma shook her head slightly, burying those thoughts in some hidden corner of her brain and instead focused on Mary Margaret and David.

"I can see that. You're doing an excellent job with that snowman." David chuckled softly and, after giving her a warm smile, went to greet Killian and help them in the construction.

"So, have you gone for a walk?" Emma asked Mary Margaret, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, in fact, despite the cold, the mornings after an intense snowfall are the days when I prefer to go for a walk. It's as if everything is calm, as if time had suddenly frozen. It's overwhelming and beautiful at the same time, something I missed back in London where life moves much faster than here." The longing was evident in Mary Margaret's voice and Emma could also detect a spark of sadness in her eyes. But what surprised her most, to the point of a warm sensation spreading through her body, was the fact that the two of them had the same thought about the snowy landscapes. She felt an instant connection to that woman she barely knew.

"I was thinking the same thing when Killian brought us to this place. It's like magic, really." Emma confirmed offering a smile of understanding.

They kept a light chat for a bit while Mary Margaret watched the others work and Emma took pictures. At some point, almost without realizing it, Emma looked away from the viewfinder and instead focused on Killian and all his movements. He, on the other hand, looked at her from time to time, offering her his most captivating smile every time their eyes met, causing the butterflies in her stomach to flutter hard.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma noticed how Mary Margaret's sight traveled from her to Killian, while she kept a thoughtful expression until her eyes widened suddenly, as if she had just realized something.

"Oh my god! You like Killian! And he likes you!" Mary Margaret almost screamed with excitement, causing Emma's heart to nearly stop at that very moment.

"What?" It was the only thing she managed to say before her throat went dry and a furious blush crept from her neck to her cheeks.

"Sorry, I didn't..." Mary Margaret's voice trailed off, while she seemed clearly embarrassed. "I mean... I had never seen Killian so happy, and you have that expression on your face as if..." Mary Margaret paused again, as if trying to find the right word. Emma held her breath, not entirely sure she wanted to continue listening to her. "... as if there were no one else around."

Emma looked away immediately as her cheeks burned even more and she wanted a hole to open beneath her feet and carry her away. She felt like a teenager who had been caught with her first crush. She was really that obvious? She schooled her features so as not to betray any more of her feelings.

But there was something else in Mary Margaret's words, something that on one hand warmed her heart, but on the other, caused a pull of fear to settle in her stomach. The fact that Killian's happiness could depend on her was a great responsibility, something she was not sure she could carry properly.

"We're just getting to know each other." She muttered, not daring to look at Mary Margaret.

"That's good."

They remained silent for a few seconds while she raised the camera again, using it as an excuse to keep busy.

"So, the meetings on Tuesdays are not merely academic, are they? Are they also a way to get to know each other better?" Mary Margaret asked tentatively, not willing to leave the topic of conversation just yet. Sensing her discomfort, she added. "I'm sorry, really. It's not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable, it's just that... this is what we've always wanted for him, that he can finally move on, and it seems that this time he's on his way to achieving it."

"It's okay..." Emma shrugged, as a wave of gratitude washed over her, at the way she seemed to care about Killian. Emma wondered how he had any inkling of doubt about their affection for him. "It seems that we have a lot in common and we understand each other."

When Emma looked at Mary Margaret, she found an unexpected emotion in her features and a special glow in her eyes which she could not identify, but it was as if she was looking at her with tenderness and understanding, making her feel a little overwhelmed, but at the same time also safe, offering a feeling that she could trust these people.

Emma offered her a half smile and then turned her gaze back to Killian. When their eyes met, her heart skipped a beat. She did not care if it was destiny or just coincidence, but she could not be more grateful to have crossed paths with Killian and for once, she allowed herself to dream and trust that maybe this time her heart was not going to be affected, at least not in the wrong way.

**_Theladyswan_ ** _Sometimes, a simple snowfall can offer you much more than a white blanket covering everything. Sometimes it means flushed cheeks, bright eyes and traveling to the past, becoming a child again. Sometimes it means a snow fight or working as a team to create our new friend, Olaf. Sometimes a simple snowflake may contain more beauty than the most precious jewel. Thank you for helping me discover all this and appreciate the small details._

* * *

 "I kissed him. Twice." Emma snapped, not taking the time to assess the consequences of her confession. She had arrived at Granny's early, intending to talk to Ruby. After the brief talk with Mary Margaret, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about Killian and a possible relationship with him, but all this was so new to her that she found herself in need of venting with someone and the most appropriate option was her friend.

"You did what?" Ruby asked, wide eyes.

"Who did you kiss?" Another voice asked almost in unison - Graham, arriving at the most inopportune moment.

Emma bit back a groan and suppressed the urge to bury her head in her arms. This wasn't how she had thought the conversation would unfold. Graham took the stool next to her, implying that he wasn't planning to leave anytime soon. They both stared at her, one with an amused expression and the other with a slight frown.

Since she couldn't swallow back her words, she had no choice but to give an explanation, so, after letting out a long sigh of resignation, she continued speaking.

"I kissed Killian."

"That's my girl!" Ruby's face split into a giant grin as she lifted her hand for a high five. "I want all the details."

"Wait, wait, wait ... You mean the instructor?" Graham's eyebrows knitted together as he gave her an inquisitive look.

In response, Emma shrugged and wrinkled her nose.  
  
"Oh" It was all Graham said at first. Then he brought his hands to his heart, while his features twisted in an overdramatic gesture. "You wound me, Emma. What does that guy have that I don’t?" Although it was evident that he was feigning his annoyance, Emma could detect a hint of disappointment in his voice. Fortunately, she did not have to answer since Ruby came immediately to her rescue.  
  
"Oh, come on, as if you didn't have eyes for another blonde who sells ice cream." Ruby smirked at him as she arched one of her eyebrows, causing Graham's cheeks to turn pink while his eyes cast down to the floor.  
  
_This was new..._ "You mean Elsa? Is that why you switched coffee for frozen yogurt?" Ruby chuckled as she lifted her hand for a new high five. Emma, instead, pressed her lips together, suppressing the laughter that threatened to escape. Graham looked truly mortified, as if he wanted to vanish right then, or flee away.

A pull of affection for him washed over her. It was quite adorable to see how the responsible and impassive sheriff lost his composure revealing how much that crush affected him.

"I believe we were talking about you, not me." He grunted as he pursed his lips, adding even more cuteness to the scene.

"He's right." Ruby agreed, of course. "So, two kisses and nothing else? What from now on?"

Emma shrugged, taking a deep breath. "I don't know... It's complicated." She admitted reluctantly.

"Complicated... You like him, he likes you. I don't see any complications there." The way Ruby put it made it really simple, but something else caught her attention.

"So, do you think he likes me?" She bit her lower lip, hating the vulnerability reflected in her voice.

"Oh, come on, Emma, everyone can see it." Ruby rolled her eyes and then looked at Graham for confirmation. He nodded, his lips drawing a small smile. "You just have to see the way he looks at you, honey." Ruby's features softened, as she reached out and squeezed her arm gently. "Listen, we know that you're a reserved person, and even though you don't talk much about your past, it's obvious that you’ve got a broken heart, but also, you've told us more than once that getting to Storybrooke changed your life. Now is the time to give your heart a chance to heal, don't you think?"

A warm feeling traveled directly to her heart, while she was extremely grateful for Ruby's words. She couldn't help to wonder how she had been so lucky to finally find two true friends who cared so much about her. She blinked a couple of times holding back the tears that threatened to spill.

"Speaking of the devil..." Graham whispered, his head pointing subtly towards the door. "Go get your chance, Emma." He winked at her, his lips curled into a smile of encouragement.

Emma turned her head to look for Killian. His face lit up at the moment their eyes met, his bright smile acting like a dart straight at her heart. She was so fucked up...

Before going to meet him, Emma sent a smile of gratitude to her friends, approaching Graham and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, guys, you're the best. By the way, maybe a blonde who sells ice cream will appear around here soon." The last thing she saw before getting up and going to meet Killian was how Graham's cheeks blushed again, while Ruby smirked at both of them, clearly enjoying the scene.

* * *

Emma couldn't deny that Killian had had a great idea in bringing everyone together to celebrate a pre-Christmas party. She decided to ignore the mixed feelings that these festivities entailed for her and instead, let herself get carried away, enjoying the company of Killian and her friends. Even Henry was there, flitting from one group to another, his smile never disappearing from his face.

The affection she had for the boy was undeniable. Her heart tightened in her chest every time she remembered that he had been the initial reason why she had decided to stay in town. She was watching as Henry showed one of his favorite storybooks to Ariel and Tink when an unexpected whispered voice into her ear made her flinch.

"I have some terrible doubts..." She hadn't even seen Anna come when she was suddenly right by her side, an expectant gaze and a wide grin on her face.

Emma didn't even have time to reply. At the moment when Anna was certain that she had gotten her attention, she launched herself with one of her interminable speeches, so Emma let out a subtle sigh as she armed herself with patience.

"I can't decide which couple is the most adorable, apart from me and Kristoff, of course... first, my sister and Graham, with those shy expressions, and those dreamy looks, and then you and the professor, all passion and unresolved sexual tension."

Emma almost choked on her drink when she heard Anna, feeling the blush creeping up her cheeks again. "We're not a couple." She mumbled weakly, cursing inwardly for letting herself get involved in these kinds of conversation.

"Neither are Graham and Elsa, not yet. But it's only a matter of time. Believe me, since I'm quite the expert here." Anna assured as she gave her a conspiratorial look.

Anna was right in something, though. Elsa and Graham made a super cute couple and it was evident that the feeling was not one-sided. And Anna and Kristoff seemed deeply in love, so she wasn't able to decide if it was a good or bad thing that Anna had compared them to those two powerful couples.

Fortunately, Anna soon found another target, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She looked for Killian, who had spent half the time at her side and the other half taking pictures of everything and everyone.

He was in his element, no doubt, involving different people and convincing them with his charm to pose for him. From time to time, he looked for her and even on occasion he took a picture of her from a distance.

"I still can't believe it." Emma winced again, hearing another voice, this time from David, right next to her. She realized that he was looking at Killian, an expression of disbelief on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"Just a few months ago, that scene - Killian taking photos so naturally, would have been inconceivable, and yet look at him now, as if nothing had happened." David commented, his voice revealing a mixture of relief and pride towards his friend.

"He has also used the darkroom that you prepared for him." For some reason, Emma found it important to let David know. It had been his idea, after all.

David then stared at Emma tilting his head slightly, as if he were studying her. He seemed to hesitate for a moment but then nodded subtly, as if he had convinced himself. "I'd like to express my gratitude towards you, Emma, since all this progress has been thanks to you."

What was happening today? Had everyone agreed to make her feel overwhelmed by emotions? Emma swallowed the lump formed in her throat as she shook her head. "I may have contributed at the beginning, but it was all Killian's work, actually. He was the one who saw the potential in me and decided to exploit it. But I can't be happier to have helped him, even indirectly, to regain the self-confidence he so badly needed."

David directed her that questioning look again, but to her surprise, she didn't feel intimidated, but curious to know what was going through his head. "I guess from your expression and attitude that you already know at least part of his past." Emma nodded as her lips drew a half smile. "He has been through a lot." David continued, without taking his gaze from her. "And, I hope you don't get offended, but your eyes tell me that your life hasn't been easy either, so I'm so glad that you found each other."

 _So do I._.. she thought, not daring to say it out loud. After offering him one last smile of gratitude, Emma turned her gaze back to Killian. She couldn't deny it anymore, he had crawled under her skin in such a way that he had made all her walls wobble. But this time, she wasn't afraid of her walls falling apart. Quite the contrary, she couldn't wait for the last brick to fall. Although something told her that they'd still have to work on the shield that protected Killian's heart, she could wait. She wasn't going anywhere.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)
> 
> Christmas has come to Storybrooke! After witnessing some resolutions of the new year, we will advance a little in time, until we reach the end of the course. We will also discover how Killian deals with the burden of guilt and regret. Will he be able to handle it?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas has come to Storybrooke! After witnessing some resolutions of the new year, we will advance a little in time, until we reach the end of the course. We will also discover how Killian deals with the burden of guilt and regret. Will he be able to handle it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to express my gratitude to all those who have given this story a chance, thanks for your likes, comments, kudos and reblogs. It means the world to me.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to my beta, Amy, for doing her magic and to my artist, Kate. Don't forget to visit her blog and enjoy her amazing art. The picset that accompanies this chapter gathers a special moment between Killian and Emma on New Year's Eve.
> 
> Sara, thank you for everything.

# CHAPTER 8

 

_My dearest Emma,_

_Today should be a day of celebration since you turn ten! I certainly hope that wherever you are, your parents have organized a great party in your honor. Sadly, I don't have the necessary strength today to pretend that everything is perfect and wonderful, because it's not. It's far from it, in fact._

_Mary Margaret keeps telling me that I should stop torturing myself, but the truth is that I can't help thinking about everything we have already missed with you. You probably already know how to swim, ride a bike, have gone camping, maybe you already know another language... And we haven't been there to help you or to be witnesses to your milestones. Sometimes I believe that having you always in my thoughts is a way of inflicting punishment on myself for not being brave enough to fight for you._

_I wonder if your parents have already told you that you are an adopted child or if they have never considered telling you. I sincerely hope that they'll tell you the truth at some point, although I'm aware that it's my selfish side speaking now. The one who fervently wishes that, when you know the truth and become a grown woman, you will decide to look for your origins - even if it's simply to get answers to the infinite questions that you may have set out. I hope to be prepared to face that moment with enough integrity and not disappoint you even more._

_You know - life sometimes seems to laugh at us with its irony. A little less than a year ago another child, only a few years older than you, came into our lives. He only has his older brother, who has also become a close friend of mine, and from the moment we met him, we felt a pull towards him as if our parental instinct had found a source to develop._

_Killian, that's his name. Seeing that child so full of life, with a promising future ahead makes me happy on the one hand, but also makes the claws of guilt dig their way straight to my heart. Because it should be you and not him. But, sometimes life gives us a second chance in the most unexpected way, and helping Liam to raise his brother is our opportunity to be as close to parents as possible. And who knows? Maybe in the future, you and he will get to know each other and become good friends._

_It's what the world of dreams and wishes offer us. It makes us achieve the impossible even for a few seconds. And my only wish will always be to meet you one day, my dear Emma, and finally be able to hold you in my arms for the first time._

_Until then, I'm content to continue dreaming. Be happy, Emma._

_Your father who loves you and never forgets you,_

_David._

* * *

 

###  **Emma Swan. Boston, Two Years ago**

_Only five more minutes and the year will have ended, giving way to a promising new year, full of new resolutions._ Emma let out a humorless laugh, wallowing in misery. Fuck the resolutions! Fuck the new year devoid of emotion! All would be waiting for her five minutes later was the same pathetic and lonely life of previous years.

Okay, maybe she was a little drunk, she thought as she settled on the couch and wrapped herself in her favorite blanket, holding a half-empty glass of wine in her hand. But since she didn't have to give any explanation to anyone, she could celebrate the new year as she pleased, right?

After all, she didn't usually allow herself to sink into this escalation of self-loathing thoughts. No, she was pretty good at locking everything that hurt her in the depths of her soul, keeping her facade as a tough girl, with her mask of coldness and indifference.

But the alcohol in her system was doing its job, loosening her thoughts and making her feelings run wild. Yeah, this was her pathetic life, witnessing through television the happiness of others while she remained locked in her apartment, no one at her side to make a toast with, the four walls of her living room the only witnesses of her New Year's resolutions.

The five minutes that separated her from the year 2016 flew by and suddenly, her living room was filled with cheers, shouts of joy and fireworks sounds.

"Happy New Year to me," she muttered, a half smile pulling at her lips as she raised her glass slightly and pointed toward the television. A tiny flame - just a fragment - was still burning in her heart, its wick so faint that it threatened to blow out at any moment, but her little hope still remained there, still stoic despite all the tribulations around her. Her sole resolution this time would be to keep that flame burning. Maybe something good was waiting for her this coming year - finally.

* * *

 

###  **Emma Swan. Storybrooke - December 31, 2017**

The Christmas festivities weren't being as terrible as Emma had feared. True, she had politely rejected all the invitations received to celebrate that special night, but at least she had received invitations this year, which was already a clear improvement over previous years.

Each invitation had touched her heart in its own way. The first to arrive had been the one from Killian and the Nolans. The fact that two people she barely knew had thought of her for that family dinner had affected her in an unexpected way, though she suspected that Killian had had a lot to do with that invitation.

Then came the one from Henry and Regina, something that didn't surprise her too much since, despite Regina's haughtiness, she had already invited her the previous year when she had only known her for a couple of months. On this occasion, she was sure that the kind and unselfish Henry was the one behind the invite. How much did she love that boy!

But undoubtedly, the invitation that had surprised her the most was the one from the Arendelle sisters who, apparently, had become fond of her and welcomed her under their wings. She had appreciated the gesture profusely, clearly touched by their kindness.

She had her own reasons to reject all those invitations, though. These festivities actually meant family reunions, sharing memories and creating new ones. And she would have felt like an intruder experiencing for a moment a mirage of familiarity that didn't belong to her.

But she hadn't spent the season’s festivities alone. She had celebrated Christmas just like the year before, at Granny's. Yes, Ruby and her grandmother also shared family ties, obviously, but the place chosen to celebrate it was the diner itself, a neutral place. And she hadn't been the only " _intruder_ " but rather other lonely souls had joined them. Maybe they would not share old memories, but at least they could build new ones.

She had another incentive to enjoy the festivities. Her extra classes with Killian hadn't suffered any hiatus. On the contrary, instead of seeing each other only on Tuesday, they spent much of their respective free time meeting each other. She still had a lot to learn and there was a lot to be photographed at Christmas. At least that's how she convinced herself, although the excuses were becoming less necessary, to be honest.

On New Year's Eve, Emma woke up with a festive spirit unknown to her until now. Unlike on Christmas day, she was looking forward to the night and with it the celebration, the party and good wishes for the following year.

Granny, bless her, had offered herself again as hostess, but this time not only the lonely souls would come. The party was open to all those who wanted to attend and that would mean that she would be able to share the last seconds of the year with the people closest to her - and especially with Killian.

That spirit and her good mood did not diminish as the hours passed, rather intensifying to the point of her almost bouncing with excitement as she prepared herself for the event.

Before leaving the apartment, she took one last look at her reflection in the mirror while a thought crossed her mind. She remembered at that moment how she had spent New Year's Eve only two years ago, alone in her apartment with hardly any expectation of a future. And now, she was about to meet with a handful of people who, in one way or another, cared about her. And not only that, before her, a future full of possibilities opened up, the flame of hope reflected in the brightness of her eyes, burning powerful in her heart.

When she entered the diner, her gaze traveled through all the guests until she found her target. Her breath caught in her throat the moment her eyes met Killian's. Maybe the reason was the shock of seeing him dressed in a suit, or maybe the fact that the color of his button-down shirt matched his eyes, or that the bastard had left the top buttons unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of his chest hair.

At least she was not the only one affected, she thought as she forced herself to close her mouth and school her features. Killian looked equally impressed, following all her movements intently as he brushed his thumb over his lower lip in a way perhaps too sinful. She wasn't going to deny that she had done her best with her attire, putting on a tight red dress, suggestive enough to catch looks in her wake, but not to the point of being vulgar. Surprisingly Ruby had been a great help with the clothing choice, at least if she considered Killian's reaction.

From that moment on, he remained glued to her throughout the night, although she wasn't going to be the one to complain, of course. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, there was delicious food, relaxed chats, lots, lots of fun and like a million photos taken. All her classmates were there and it seemed that Killian's teachings had touched all them deeply since everyone, in turn, became the improvised photographers of the event, swarming from group to group and taking pictures while chatting with the rest of the guests.

Emma was no exception in that regard. Accompanied by Killian, she took charge of taking pictures of the people closest to her, trying to deposit into the images the affection and gratitude that she had towards them.

As the moment to welcome the new year approached, her feelings began to betray her. She had never had the opportunity to live this experience surrounded by people and now, the very idea of giving and receiving kisses and hugs at the height of the moment caused a sensation to burn through her veins, making her stomach flutter.

In the last moments of the year, everyone gathered around the television, Killian on her left side and Henry on her right. Killian must have felt her growing state of nervousness since, after giving her a subtle look of support, he discreetly laced his little finger with hers. Far from helping her though, the touch caused a chill to run down her body, anticipation humming beneath her skin as her lips tingled, craving the touch of his lips against hers.

When the countdown began, Emma held her breath in an attempt to calm her agitated heart as she closed her eyes briefly. And suddenly, before she knew it, it was over. 2017 was left behind and 2018 came in full of promises. A tumult of voices, shouts and outbursts of joy surrounded her, but everything seemed to fade around her when her gaze focused on Killian's. The intensity of his eyes was such that Emma had to swallow hard while licking her lips.

Killian started leaning toward her, causing the tingling in her lips to increase and her heart to threat to come out of her chest. Before closing the short distance that separated them, though, a shadow crossed his face, darkening his features. Emma knew at that moment that what she longed for would not happen. She had to settle for a soft kiss on the cheek, which didn't serve to make her disappointment diminish.

"Happy New Year, Emma." His velvety voice caressed the lobe of her ear, but his troubled expression did not help to calm her, instead, it was quite the contrary. Her brow furrowed as she gave him an inquiring look.

"Are you alright?"

"Aye." Killian offered a tight smile that did not reach his eyes. "It's just that... I need some fresh air."

Before Emma could react, Killian hurried to the exit. At that moment, David approached her and, to her surprise, he wrapped her in a tight hug as he offered his best wishes for the coming year. His wife joined the embrace soon, causing Emma not to be able to react at first to the unexpected affectionate action. Gradually, she let herself be enveloped by the warmth of the moment since, after all, this was what she had longed for all her life, right?

After the effusive congratulations of the Nolans, it was the turn of the rest of her friends, sharing hugs and mutual congratulations. She appreciated these displays of affection, no doubt, but a sinking feeling had settled in the pit of her stomach when she realized that Killian had not yet returned. She could not wait to go in search of him, wondering what would have caused his sudden change of attitude.

* * *

 

###  **Killian Jones, Storybrooke - January 1, 2018**

This was becoming much harder than he had imagined. Killian dragged his hand down his face and rubbed the scruff of his jaw while he collapsed on one of the seats located in the front patio of Granny's. The idea of lying to Emma was digging a hole deeper and deeper into his stomach, making him feel suffocated, like an animal trapped in a cage with no possibility of escape.

He shouldn't have agreed to help his friends, he thought bitterly while he inhaled deeply in an attempt to slow the rapid beating of his heart, his exhaled breath drawing small puffs of steam due to the cold of the night. He devoted himself to that task during the next few minutes, inhaling and exhaling slowly, getting calm enough to think more coldly.

Who was he kidding? The moment he knew the truth, he had been sentenced, regardless of whether he accepted the deal or not. That secret had supposed a cross over his shoulders, baggage that was gradually becoming heavier to carry.

He didn't blame his friends, though. At the moment when he decided not to tell Emma the truth, he also became an accomplice. He could have always chosen to confess to Emma. Their relationship was just blooming after all, but he now felt at a crossroads where, regardless of the path he took, he would end up failing someone.

Besides, to add one more complicacy, that secret, instead of keeping him away from Emma, had made his attraction to her increase, endowing his already complicated existence with an ironic and bittersweet twist.

She was driving him crazy, his whole body was humming for her. She occupied all his thoughts, either to make him feel even more guilty or burn with desire for her.

It was as if there were an imaginary thread between her and him and it didn't matter how much he tried to pull it to break it, the thread not only would never be cut but would contract more and more until the distance between them disappeared. Tonight was proof of that. By the time she had entered through Grannys' door, like a temptation personified, he had fallen under her spell, unable to separate from her until only a few minutes before.

A chill ran down his spine as his blood ran hot at the thought that he had been about to kiss her right there in front of everyone, consequences be damned. He only slowed down at the last moment when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught David and Mary Margaret looking at him with stunned expressions. It was then that reality had fallen over him, hitting him hard, and making him feel the need to put a little space between him and the current cause of his torments.

"You didn't get to hear my New Year's resolutions." Emma chose that precise moment to announce her presence as if his thoughts had invoked her. He wasn't surprised at her appearance, however. Deep down, he had expected her to come looking for him sooner or later.

Even so, his skin began to tingle in awareness of her proximity and his breathing raced again as he looked up slowly, seeking her gaze.

She was a bloody goddess, it was the only thought that crossed his mind as he watched her approach the table, a hint of concern etched in her features even though her lips curled into a soft smile.

She held two flutes of champagne in one hand and what looked like a piece of clothing in the other. Only then did Killian realize that in his hurry to leave the premises he had left behind his coat. A shiver ran through his body, though he was no longer sure if the cause was the realization of the cold of the night or Emma's closeness.

"You're going to freeze." She simply commented as she handed him his coat and one of the flutes. She sat next to him and waited for him to put on his coat. Then she raised her glass and clinked it lightly with his. "Happy New Year."

His lips pressed together, offering her a tight smile and then he took a tiny sip of the drink. After his horrible experience the last time he got drunk, he was making great efforts to stay sober.

"What would that resolution of yours be, lass?"

She didn't respond immediately but instead stared at him with her lips subtly pursed, probably looking for something that would help her understand his strange previous behavior. "Well..." She began to speak without loosening her scrutiny. "I've decided that I will do my best to not hide behind my walls." Her voice trailed off for a few moments, as she tilted her head slightly to the side, her eyes still locked on his. "I'm tired of keeping my feelings at bay in order to protect myself."

Killian swallowed hard before replying. "It seems to me a very appropriate resolution, love." He said tentatively, not quite sure where this conversation would take them.

"Would you help me carry it out?" Emma asked in a soft voice.

Was she really asking for help to remove her armor? To leave her heart exposed to the risk of suffering again? It wasn't as if she had confessed her past - in fact, she had barely dropped a handful of comments here and there. And he had flatly refused to let his friends explain him anything beyond mere hints of her painful history. But the memory of the conversation that preceded their second kiss, in which she had confessed that her heart was broken, came to his mind and, considering what he already knew, offering to help her was too cynical for his liking. But rejecting her request was also unthinkable. "Anything you need, love, though frankly, I'm not sure how I could be of help."

"Maybe not going away when you're about to kiss me would be a good start." Emma kept the voice even and the features impassive, but he could detect a slight hint of disappointment, so he was quick to reassure her.

"I apologize for my rude behavior, Swan." He paused for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. There was no way he was going to confess the truth, but he felt the need to offer something at least. He let out a long breath before continuing. "It's just... this time of the year hasn't been easy for me until now... Since..." He swallowed hard in an attempt to drag down the lump in his throat. "Since I lost almost everything, I also lost the hope of welcoming a new year. Now... now it's different." _Because of you_ , he thought. "But I'm still trying to figure out the best way to adapt to this new sense of future."

"Maybe we can figure it out together." Emma suggested with such gentleness that he had to suppress the urge to capture her lips with his at that very moment. Instead, he nodded, offering a grateful smile in return.

They remained silent for the next seconds, both lost in each other's eyes. "So, you really would have kissed me in front of everyone if you had not freaked out?" It was Emma who broke the silence, finally. He instantly hated the vulnerability in her voice and features, feeling guilty for being the cause in a certain way.

He ignored his inner voice, warning him that he shouldn't get involved with her anymore. Instead, he decided to listen to his heart. He would have time to face the consequences, later. "I actually still want to kiss you, badly."

"And what prevents you now?" Emma muttered as she closed the distance between them. He could detect the fire in her eyes, her sweet fragrance and the warmth that emanated from her body despite the low temperatures. She was a temptation to which he had to resist.

"I... I don't want to drag you into my own miseries, Emma, you don't deserve it." He mused in a weak voice. "I'm a cursed man, Swan, with the ability to destroy all those who come near me."

Emma shook her head, not accepting his poor excuse. "I see the Nolans are perfectly fine, and they have been by your side for almost twenty years." _Give me time,_ he thought bitterly, though his lips remained sealed. "Also, what if I want to be dragged? What if I want to share my own miseries with you? Remember, walking together to find the light at the end of the tunnel..."

Killian realized that Emma was not only cheering him up but that she was looking for enough confidence in him to continue breaking the wall around her. He simply couldn't disappoint her. After all, he was no more than a weak man unable to restrain that blossoming feeling that was spreading in his chest.

"You're right." He muttered before yielding to her and pressing his lips to hers. Unlike the previous kisses, which had been all passion, desire and impulsiveness, this was a tender, languid kiss, in which he tried to project all his feelings towards her while his fingers caressed her cheek delicately.

He blocked from his mind any distracting thoughts and instead just felt the softness of her lips against his as his tongue savored the delicious taste of her mouth and his ears delighted in the soft sounds that came from her.

It was she who broke the kiss, resting her forehead with his. He gently brushed the dimple of her chin as he searched her gaze to make sure she was okay. For an answer, she returned a smile that was a clear invitation so he, of course, obliged, capturing her lips again in a more passionate kiss while her tongue pressed against his lips asking for access which he happily granted, his hand holding the back of her head and pulling her even closer to him.

He lost the notion of time and space, completely lost and consumed by her and by the sensations that she caused on him. Only when the need to catch their breaths arose did they separate.

"I just established my own resolution for the new year." He breathed against her lips, closing his eyes for a moment. "I'll do my best to try to kiss you every day, Emma. Would you help me carry it out?"

In response, Emma pulled him into a searing kiss, one with the ability to make his blood run hot as his desire for her increased.

He was going to burn in hell.

* * *

 

###  **Emma Swan. Storybrooke - February 10, 2018**

To Emma's delight, Killian was true to his resolution and the first New Year's kiss wasn't an isolated event but the first of many more. From that day on, she got kisses on a daily basis. Sometimes it was just a soft brush of lips, sometimes a little peck or a stolen kiss before entering the classroom. They also were involved in some sessions of intense steamy making out, especially after their extra classes on Tuesdays. But beyond that, the new year didn't bring much more changes for Emma.

Well, that was not entirely true. She also made a great effort to keep her resolution about not hiding behind her walls, although that did not imply that she wouldn’t sometimes panic due to the intensity of her feelings towards Killian. Or when he went through one of those moods that left him with a lost gaze while a shadow of what looked like guilt crossed his features and his whole body tensed. Or when the end of the course approached and she began to fear that everything would change between them.

Fortunately, she was able to cross off her list of concerns that last issue. January ran fast and almost without realizing it, February arrived and with it, the last class which would take place a few days before Valentine's Day.

The photography course had brought her so many good and unexpected things that she couldn't help but be nervous as the last class approached wondering if the end of the course also meant the end of the new friendships she had made, the feeling of group that they had achieved or if she would again feel lost in the world of photography. But what she feared most was not being able to keep the excuse of seeing Killian and keep learning from him.

All her doubts and fears vanished on February 10, the day of their last class, when she entered the classroom and found everything Killian had prepared.

There were several photos taken by all of them hanging on the different walls of the room, giving it an air of a photo gallery. The chairs had been moved to different corners, leaving clear the center of the classroom where several tables with food and drinks had been distributed in different places. Killian was already there, leaning against his desk and welcoming them with a warm smile.

Emma's eyes widened at the sight of such a display, marveling at Killian's ability to keep the secret to perfection. She gave him an inquisitive look as she arched an eyebrow in question. He responded by shrugging and winking at her.

"Wow, are we having a party or something?" Will asked the moment he entered the room, emulating the expression of surprise that everyone showed when they arrived.

Killian remained silent, clearly waiting for everyone to arrive. Something caught Emma's interest, making her heart warm a little more. Unlike that first day, three months ago, Killian did nothing to hide his prosthesis. Today, he kept it very visible while placing it atop his right hand.

Although all the merit was Killian's, she couldn't help but feel glad to have been part of the acceptance process while her admiration for him grew at times as she confirmed his evolution.

Everyone had grown up in some way with that course, she thought as she looked around and her eyes lingered on each of the students.

"I hope you don't mind." When Killian was sure they had all arrived, he started talking. "And not to worry. Although indeed, we're celebrating with a party, we're also going to continue practicing photography."

A hum of appreciation resounded in the classroom. Everyone seemed to be in a mood of celebration.

"Free food and drink while we take pictures, I don't mind at all." Leroy affirmed, his lips drawing a grimace in an attempt to a smile.

"This little party is just a way of expressing my gratitude to all of you. I'd like to thank you for your patience, for your willingness to learn, and for following all my crazy ideas throughout these months. It has been a fully satisfying experience that has brought me more than I ever imagined." His gaze remained fixed on her as he uttered the last words, causing the butterflies of her stomach to flap furiously and her heart to thud in her chest.

"What a thoughtful gesture, professor." Aurora was the first to speak, her voice full of emotion. "But we are the ones who should thank you for having taught us so much, for getting our minds open to a new world of possibilities."

"Yeah, thanks for teaching us to appreciate photography." Ariel added while Tink nodded to her side in agreement.

Killian seemed somewhat overwhelmed at the signs of affection for him, responding to each of them with a little bow of his head while occasionally scratching behind his ear, a gesture that Emma now identified as a tic that showed shyness or nervousness and that she found particularly adorable.

One by one, they all addressed a few words to Killian until it was Anna's turn, who simply asked, "Can I give you a hug, professor?"

Killian's cheeks flushed, but he opened his arms while offering a soft smile, "Of course, lass." And Anna wasn't the only one - everyone approached Killian, sharing with him hugs or shaking hands, all gestures of affection sprinkled with more words of gratitude and some furtive tears.

Finally, it was Emma’s turn. She noticed how all eyes focused on her as she walked the few steps that separated her from Killian. She had thought about her little speech, she really had, but when she was a few inches away from him, she found herself unable to utter any words, too overwhelmed by emotion. Instead, she threw herself into his arms and the two merged into a tight embrace.

"You two, kiss already!" Someone shouted and that was all she needed for her lips to seek his, as she tried to show him with that kiss the gratitude she hadn't been able to express in words.

It was a relatively chaste kiss, they had an audience after all, but when they separated, he kept her by his side, wrapping her shoulders with his left arm.

"Before the party starts, I'd like to make a suggestion," Killian announced. "Of course, no one is obligated to do so, but I thought it would be a good idea for all of us to meet once a month, at no cost to you, as a way to keep the group together and to continue practicing with our cameras."

Emma searched his gaze since she was sure that gesture was meant only to reassure her, making her see, indirectly, that it didn't matter that the course was coming to an end, he wasn't going anywhere.

"So you aren’t going back to London after the course?" Archie asked.

"No, I'm afraid I'll be stuck here for a while longer, guys. I have a lot of projects in mind." Killian pulled her to him as he spoke, keeping her as close as possible, making all her worries fade away.

* * *

 

**_Theladyswan:_ ** _Sometimes the end of the road means that new ones will appear. You just have to be brave enough to keep moving forward. This toast is for you - thank you for never losing faith in us and for giving us the wings that will allow us to fly while chasing our dreams._

* * *

 

To her relief, the end of the course didn't change anything between them. But it was also true that their relationship didn't make much progress. They didn't celebrate Valentine's Day, because the reality was that they weren't dating, not in the strict sense of the term. Not that she had much experience in the field, honestly. Rather none at all. She was unable to consider Neal's debacle as dating. And with Walsh, he had lied to her during the three months their relationship lasted, so... Her experience with Killian was completely opposed to these other two relationships, but still... There was something there, like a kind of invisible barrier that prevented them from advancing or becoming more intimate.

They did not go out to dinner, at least she didn't consider their usual dinners at Granny's after their extra classes as romantic dates. Nor were Sunday lunches at the Nolans' house, which she had begun to attend at the insistence of the couple. They didn't go to the movies either, they only stayed in his apartment or hers every now and then to do marathons of shows or old movies. They didn't share breakfasts. The fact that during the course, Killian had found a cup of his favorite coffee at his desk when he arrived in the classroom every Saturday didn’t count, especially since the course was over now.

But the biggest indicative was the absence of sex. Nothing at all. Their making out sessions left her all horny, breathless, a little frustrated and, above all - confused. The penetrating glances he gave her were so intense that they had the ability to make her feel exposed and vulnerable as if she were naked in body and soul. The mere touch of his fingers on the small patches of her bare skin caused her blood to run hot while his lips and tongue left a trail of goosebumps, causing her whole body to tremble. The next minute though, he retreated, moving into that state of caution while his expression morphed into one of pain or sadness, she wasn't sure.

All this experience was so new to her that she was uncertain about how to act. She had tried to talk about it with Killian, but all she had gotten were poor excuses sprinkled with looks that almost silently begged her to drop the subject. She supposed, or at least that was what she wanted to believe, that those changes of attitude were nothing more than the reflection of his persistent struggle to overcome his painful past, but even so, that didn't prevent a thorn of worry from getting stuck in her heart.

The fact that all the people around them already took for granted that the two of them were a thing didn't help either. The rest of the students soon had joined Elsa and Anna in their mission to get them together and in the last classes, they had shared conspiratorial glances and jokes about the blossoming couple, dropping comments like _"Now I understand why she was always his favorite_." They didn't do it as a censure but as a sign that they approved of whatever relationship that had arisen between them.

Mary Margaret and David also became the most devoted fans of their budding relationship, all dreamy smiles, looks full of affection and speeches about true love and second chances. Killian's features darkened at these gestures, although Emma assumed that the reason was none other than the Nolans were the closest thing to parent figures he had and their attitude probably made him feel uncomfortable in some way.

Despite all their doubts and insecurities, they gradually opened up to each other, perhaps not in terms of their mutual feelings but at least in relation to their pasts. He told her about Milah one night while they shared a late dinner at Granny's after an intense day taking exterior photographs.

She had spent literally hours trying to get the best picture of the landscape she had in front of her, never quite satisfied with the result while Killian had not stopped praising her perseverance and her patience. The scene must have activated his memories because he didn’t even wait for their plates to be served to start talking about his old love.

He told her how Milah had appeared in his life at the opportune moment and that she had offered him the possibility of starting to live again after the death of his brother. He also confessed all the future projects they had been planning together until a car accident had ended Milah’s life, sending Killian back into his spiral of misery.

Emma’s heart dropped to her toes as she ached to reach him and offer some comfort. He didn't need her pity, she was aware of it, but she couldn't bear to see the lines of sorrow on his features or hear his voice broken by the pain.

At least his confession helped her to fit one more piece into the complex puzzle that Killian Jones had become.

She secretly admired the courage he had shown in trusting her by confessing one of the most traumatic experiences for him. She didn't feel brave enough, though. Her own confession burned in her tongue, but she swallowed it back, unable to bare her soul in front of him. Instead, she escorted him to his apartment and stayed with him, helping him through his breakdown, lying with him in bed while her fingers traced delicate patterns on his back. That night they both fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

 

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke - February 21, 2018**

Killian was an utter bloody mess. Although he had tried to resist, he could no longer deny the evidence. He was madly in love with Emma Swan.

The irony that sometimes hit him at the most unexpected moments had made an appearance when he had finally dared to admit his feelings, even to himself, just after confessing his tragic story about Milah to Emma.

He wanted to know all her secrets, all the little details that had left a mark on her until transforming her into the amazing person she had become. He longed to know all her struggles, how she had overcome all the obstacles that life had thrown in her way. Her New Year's resolution had certainly helped. She had dropped some glimpses, little traumatic experiences while she was in the foster system. But he was aware that Emma still kept a lot inside her. Perhaps for that reason, he had felt the need to pave the way, first confessing himself everything that had made him the broken person he was now.

It had been a liberating act in a way, almost cathartic. When Milah died, he had shut himself off, descending further into his spiral of self-destruction, unable to entrust himself to his friends. With Emma however, he had been much more comfortable explaining how Milah's death had affected him. It was as if, despite the ensuing breakdown that he suffered, confessing his past to Emma had the effect of lightening the burden he was carrying over his shoulders. Maybe he would never overcome his demons of the past but at least he was learning not only not to fear them but to live with them.

When he woke up with Emma curled up in his arms, he had a feeling of bliss like he had never felt before. That sensation vanished before he could savor it though, when he realized that, with every burden of his past that he released, a new burden arose in the form of lies, guilt and regret, which added to his baggage every day he spent with Emma with the damn secret beating between them.

There were times when he almost forgot that lies hovered over them. Emma herself was a great distraction. Her incredible talent, her natural beauty, her determination, her gestures of affection towards the people closest to her, all this caused all of his thoughts to be consumed by her, to the point of forgetting everything around them.

These small moments of calm got the sort of strange relationship that had been burgeoning between them to continue to progress day after day, between photography sessions, relaxed talks and other deeper conversations. In one of these conversations, Emma finally dared to talk about her ghosts of the past.

The confession took place in his apartment. They had been practicing in the darkroom, printing some of the photographs taken by her in the previous days. He had noticed before that whenever Emma worked either with the camera or with the images, she felt more relaxed, more open. Maybe that was the reason why she decided to tell him about the two guys who had broken her heart, Neal and Walsh.

While listening to Emma, an unexpected rage bubbled up inside him, making his blood burn as his hand curled into a fist and his jaw clenched. The anger grew as Emma offered details of Neal's betrayal, how he had taken advantage of her, a vulnerable girl who was just looking for someone who loved her, to the point of making her pay for his crimes and leave her alone in prison.

And then there was the other guy, Walsh, who had also tricked her into thinking he was someone he really wasn't until she discovered the truth - that he was actually engaged to someone else.

Unlike him, she showed total strength while confessing, making his admiration for her grow at times, astonished because, despite her terrible past full of betrayals and abandonment, she had risen from her ashes like a phoenix bird, becoming the wonderful woman that he had in front of him.

"You're a bloody marvel. You know that, don't you?" He murmured while caressing her cheek.

Emma offered him a tight smile. "I think you're a bit biased here."

"Nonsense. Anyone in your place would have broken completely, but look at you. You've managed to keep going, Swan, and not only that, you can achieve everything you set out to do." Killian's eyes bored into hers, in an attempt to enhance with his gaze what he tried to convey with his words

"I still have a broken heart." Emma remembered him in a weak voice.

"Well, we're working on it, aren't we? I'll do my best to try not to let you down." A shadow crossed Emma's face, as if she had expected a more reassuring response. Unfortunately, he could not promise anything more in that regard since he had a suspicion that he would end up doing exactly that. Still, she nodded, a small smile pulling at her lips. In an attempt to offer her something else, he captured her lips with his own, trusting that, in the absence of words, he would at least be able to convey the devotion he felt for her through these small gestures.

It was then, while he was lost in the incredible feeling that it was to kiss Emma, when reality decided to pay him a visit as a reminder that his friends had been the first ones to abandon her and that he was also lying to her with something as important as her origins.

He pulled away from her as if he had been burned and he would have run away trying to put distance between them if it hadn't been because they were in his own apartment. He felt the need to throw off a poor excuse, alluding that he had completely forgotten that he had agreed to meet David to help him with an article.

When they both said goodbye in front of his building, he could detect the flicker of pain and uncertainty in her eyes, causing the weight of guilt and regret to dig a hole even deeper in his heart.

Killian was aware that this wasn't the first time that Emma noticed such a sudden change of attitude in him as well as his indecision in some aspects or his determination not to share with her more than kisses and some caresses stolen in the heat of the moment.

Although his whole body craved for her in the most torturous way he couldn't succumb, not in that way. Not until the truth was revealed. Unfortunately, that moment seemed like it would never come. Still, it was terribly difficult to resist her charms. He should have walked completely away from her if he really wanted to resist temptation. But his selfishness and his desire for her were more powerful and although he never yielded to temptation completely, he did indulge himself with endless sessions of making out, which would end with him in his apartment taking a cold shower in an almost desperate attempt to relieve tension.

He wasn't sure he could survive that way for much longer. His friends had promised to confess the truth to Emma after forming a bond with her. Well, they already had it. After these two months, the connection between them was evident. Now, it was time to finally confess and end this torture, even if it meant the possibility of losing Emma forever. She deserved to know the truth once and for all and be able to decide for herself. He needed to talk to David and convince him that the time had come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :) 
> 
> What to expect from the next chapter? Things get a bit complicated... Emma talks to Mary Margaret, Mary Margaret talks to David, David talks to Killian... And the Nolans make a decision but, before carrying it out, they have to celebrate Killian's birthday.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Things get a bit complicated… Emma talks to Mary Margaret, Mary Margaret talks to David, David talks to Killian… And the Nolans make a decision but, before carrying it out, they have to celebrate Killian’s birthday._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to express my gratitude to all those who have given this story a chance, thanks for your likes, comments, kudos and reblogs. It means the world to me.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to my beta, Amy, for doing her magic and to my artist, Kate. Don't forget to visit her blog and enjoy her amazing art. There is no specific art for this chapter but the photo from Emma’s Instagram account will be part of the fan art that Kate has created for an upcoming chapter.
> 
> Sara, thank you for everything.

# CHAPTER 9

_My dearest Emma,_

_It's happening! We got the news a few days ago, but I still have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. No, this time it's real. You, my dear daughter, found us, or rather you found your way back home._

_I still can not believe that I'll have the possibility of delivering these letters to you in person in a few months. I would have taken the first flight back home, but there are some things that we need to take care of first. We must convince Killian that he should travel with us. We can not leave him here alone, buried under layers of misery, so we will do our best to continue helping him move forward, and if he has to cross the ocean in search of a new beginning, so be it._

_You can not imagine the joy we felt when we saw you for the first time in photos, when we were able to finally put a face on our beautiful daughter. You got your chin and eyes from your mother, but the blond in your hair comes from me. You are the perfect mix, the product of our deep love._

_I'm aware that the road will not be easy from now on, that there is a possibility that you don't want to know anything about us. And we will understand and accept it, but now that you are so close, or at least you will be when we arrive at Storybrooke, I will settle for knowing that at least you are happy, even without us._

_I want to know everything about you. What experiences you have lived, what cities you have visited, your hobbies, your aspirations, your fears, your desires. Will you let us, Emma, be part of your life?_

_Just a few more months and we can reunite as a family forever. Until then, be happy, Emma on this new journey you have undertaken,_

_Your father who loves you and never forgets you,_

_David._

* * *

 

###  **Emma Swan. Storybrooke - February 21, 2018**

Emma arrived at her apartment that afternoon with a strange sensation in her gut, as if a bad omen had begun to haunt her. She dropped down on the couch, letting her thoughts run free instead of bottling them inside. Maybe it was not the most appropriate way of acting, but she felt that if she kept blocking everything that disturbed her, sooner or later, everything would end up exploding.

It was the first time in a long time that she felt that recurring uneasiness tightening her stomach into knots and what hurt her most was that everything had happened just when she had finally got enough courage to bare her soul and reveal to Killian her ghosts of the past.

There was something that confused her. Everything had gone well. He had offered her security and confidence, although perhaps his choice of words hadn't been the most reassuring — she didn't miss the deliberate use of the verb  _try_ — but the softness of his lips, the tenderness of his kisses and caresses and his proximity had acted as a balm.

Everything had gone to hell suddenly, when he had pulled away from her abruptly, muttering an excuse that hadn't been convincing at all. Until then, she had blamed those sudden changes of attitude to his own demons that kept harassing him. But that had never happened when they were in the middle of an intimate moment.

Maybe she had read it all wrong. Maybe Killian's feelings towards her were not as deep as she thought or maybe he was having second thoughts... _Stop!_ Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly in an effort to calm down enough to think more clearly. She wasn't going to be carried away by her insecurities now. Instead, she should act and find the answers she needed.

And what better way to get those answers than by asking the people closest to Killian? The Nolans might offer her some light regarding his strange behavior. Emma grabbed her phone with determination and started typing.

**_Hey! How are you doing? Are you free to see me today? - ES_ **

_Hi Emma! Is everything alright? - MM Nolan_

**_Yeah, but I'd like to talk to you about something. - ES_ **

_Sure, meet me at Granny's in 20? - MM Nolan_

**_On my way. Thanks :) - ES_ **

* * *

Mary Margaret was already waiting for her, sitting in one of the booths when she arrived a little later at Granny's. She waved at her while her lips drew a warm smile to which Emma responded with one on her own.

She liked Killian's friend. She exuded a halo of composure with that always sweet expression and her soft voice. But there was also something intimidating in her attitude, although Emma hadn't yet managed to discern exactly what it was. Maybe it was the fact that she belonged to a different generation, or maybe she was the closest thing to a family Killian had, and that made her always feel somewhat under scrutiny, as if they were assessing whether she was worthy enough.

Emma shook her head in an attempt to make those inopportune thoughts disappear. Instead, she sat in front of Mary Margaret trying to muster enough determination to bring up the issue that worried her.

"Hi, Emma!" The way Mary Margaret addressed her, all joy as if she were really glad to see her, was something she still had to get used to.

"Hi, thanks for coming."

"Of course. Are you sure everything is alright?" Mary Margaret asked gently, although Emma could detect how her cordial expression morphed to one of slight concern at the edges.

"Yeah, I guess."

Before she could offer any explanation, Ruby approached the table, placing a cup of cocoa with whipped cream and cinnamon in front of her. A warm sensation hummed under her skin, spreading to her heart. Emma still found it hard to believe that this was her life now, with friends who remembered her favorite drink or with people she had only known for two months who were willing to meet her no matter the reason. Emma's lips curled upward, sending a grateful smile to her friend.

"You know?" Mary Margaret's chin pointed to her cup, while she held her own in her hands. "This's one of the things that I missed the most in London, the closeness, the small details, like a waitress remembering your favorite order without needing to mention it." Her gaze took on a nostalgic glow, but she recovered quickly, focusing again on Emma. "Anyway, the important thing is that we're back. And now tell me, what can I do for you?"

Emma swallowed as she stirred her cocoa, gathering her thoughts in an attempt to find the best way to expose the subject. "It's about Killian." She finally snapped, maybe a bit sharper than she intended.

Mary Margaret's brows furrowed with concern. "What's wrong? Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine, Well, I hope so." The wrinkles on Mary Margaret's forehead became more pronounced, causing Emma to groan inwardly. She definitely had to improve her social skills. "I mean, there's something that worries me about him." She wasn't sure that would ease the worry, at least that which was indicated in Mary Margaret's expression, seemingly far from relieved.

"Maybe it would be helpful if you were a little more specific, Emma." Mary Margaret suggested tentatively, the corners of her lips rising slightly, drawing a smile of encouragement.

Emma cleared her throat and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves. She was probably being ridiculous and imagining things, but it was better if she expelled the thoughts that disturbed her. Only then would she be able to loosen the knot in her stomach. "It's just that... Killian sometimes acts in a strange way. Sometimes he seems fine, but suddenly his attitude changes and he goes into a kind of silence, as if he were shutting himself up."

"I see..." Mary Margaret looked thoughtful for a moment, but then continued. "I'm not sure how much Killian has revealed to you from his past, but I guess you already know that he has not exactly had it easy."

"Yes, I know. I've always thought that the reason was precisely that - the struggle he was still carrying out against his own demons, but there's something else." Emma paused for a moment. _God!_ Keeping a conversation about her intimacies was proving to be more difficult than she would have thought. "We were kissing today... you know." Her voice trailed off, as she averted her gaze, feeling her cheeks flush. "And suddenly he pulled away from me, as if I was burning him or something." Emma glanced at Mary Margaret, holding her breath as she waited for her reaction.

"Oh." It was everything she said for a moment, her cheeks tinged with a slight pink hue, probably matching her own.

"There's this other stuff..." Emma exhaled deeply while trusting her voice to sound carefree enough. "We... we haven't slept together, yet."

"Oh." Mary Margaret repeated as her eyes widened slightly, her cheeks now tinged a furious red. Emma realized later that this conversation should be equally mortifying to both of them because it was as if Mary Margaret was hearing about sex —or the absence of it, to be exact— practiced by her little brother or something.

"It's not that I really care about not having... well yes, I mean, I want to, at some point... but..." Emma was aware that she was rambling, but she was unable to stop herself. "What really worries me is what might be the reason for that attitude. Maybe it's because of me? Am I understanding everything in the wrong way? Maybe he doesn't feel the same about me?" As she expressed her concerns aloud her voice became weaker until it sounded only as a soft murmur.

"Oh, Emma." She dared to cast a sidelong glance at Mary Margaret. To her surprise, she found a sad expression while a shadow of what looked like regret crossed her gaze. Mary Margaret reached out and placed her hand on hers, giving her an affectionate squeeze. "Whatever is going through Killian's mind at this moment, it has nothing to do with the depth of his feelings towards you, I can assure you."

"Do you really think so?" Emma hated how vulnerable her voice sounded. That was one of the reasons why she had protected her heart for so long, to prevent these kinds of sensations from taking control over her.

"Believe me, sweetheart, I've never seen Killian as happy or as excited about something as he is with you, not even with photography, which has been his only refuge for a long time." Her emotions were evident both in her voice and in her expression. Emma could not keep her heart from fluttering as she silently thanked the couple for taking care of Killian all these years.

She let out a sigh of relief as she leaned her back on her seat. "I... I just have this need to help him, but I'm not sure how to do it." She recognized, while her lips drew a small smile.

Mary Margaret gave her hand another squeeze. "I'm sure if we all work on it, everything will be solved eventually. Meanwhile, the best thing you can do is support each other. That's what David and I did when we went through our worst moments." The sparkle of nostalgia returned to Mary Margaret's eyes as Emma wondered what painful experiences this couple — the perfect representation of true love— would have experienced.

"Thank you, really. I'll do my best to help him, he... I also care about him a lot." It was there, at that precise moment and in that random place, when her feelings decided to leave their prison inside her heart and come to the surface. She could not deny it any longer. She was falling hopelessly in love with Killian. That certainty hit her hard, causing her to suppress a gasp as she shut her eyes closed for a moment in an attempt to regain her composure. That gripping sensation didn't leave her, though. She felt about to be pushed into the void without the security that there was a net to cushion her fall.

"I know, Emma, I know." There was something in Mary Margaret's intense gaze that made Emma's heart tighten in her chest, as a strange sensation overwhelmed her, as if she could read beyond her facade and reach deep into her very soul.

* * *

 

###  **David Nolan. Storybrooke - February 21, 2018**

_Don't you think it's about time for Emma to know the truth? - Regina_

**_Honestly, it's none of your business, madam mayor. - David_ **

_Well, when it comes to my employee, it is. How do you think she will react when she finds out? - Regina_

**_That's one of the reasons why we are not revealing the truth yet. - David_ **

_I see... but that doesn't stop you from involving your friend in this dangerous game, even though he is now your daughter's boyfriend. A very smart movement, David... - Regina_

**_I don't have time for your sarcasm. I have a newspaper to run and you a town to govern. Good evening, Regina. - David_ **

David locked the screen of his phone while taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm the feeling of annoyance that Regina had caused him. The woman had always been characterized by trying to control everything, but this time he wasn't going to allow her to interfere. In an attempt to forget the irritable mayor, he focused on Killian, though he assumed that his friend's unexpected visit was also related to Emma.

He watched as Killian paced up and down his office, stopping now and then to look out the window, or paying attention to any random objects on the shelves. There was something that was worrying him, clearly, and David suspected what it might be, but he waited until his friend was ready to share whatever was troubling him, while pretending to be busy typing on his computer.

After a couple more minutes, Killian seemed to gain enough courage and sat in the chair in front of the desk. Still reluctant, he rubbed his hand over the scruff of his chin until finally, he decided to speak. "So, have you guys already thought about when are you going to tell Emma the truth?"

 _Never?_ David pressed his lips together, trying to keep his composure, but the fact that in an interval of just a few minutes two different people had asked him the same question was beginning to take its toll. He had expected Killian’s question, though, at least since they discovered that Killian had feelings for Emma and that they seemed to be reciprocated.

If the circumstances had been different, David would have settled for this connection they had made with Emma. It was not enough, it never would be, but at least it served to keep her close, to know about her life, to support her in bad times. If he could not be a father to her, he would be a friend.

But neither he nor Mary Margaret had expected that there would be other feelings involved. Their somewhat selfish and desperate actions might hurt deeply, and irreparably, the most important people in their lives.

"I... I don't know." He breathed while rubbing his eyes with one hand, racking his brains in an attempt to find a magical solution. There wasn’t any, of course. In fact, they should not have even considered embarking on this path of lies in the first place.

"I'm not sure I can do this much longer, Dave." Killian's desperate tone caused his heart to constrict with regret. David gave him a sidelong glance and what he saw did not help at all to mitigate that gripping sensation. Killian looked devastated, on the edge of the precipice, a crease of concern between his brows, his shoulders tense, a twitching muscle in his jaw betraying his tension.

He took a shuddering breath. "I know, Killian." A wave of guilt curled around his gut when, for the first time, he fully realized the implications of their rash plan. If Killian was already in a precarious position, he had taken advantage in some way of his vulnerability to get his help. He could not forgive himself if Killian ended up even more broken after this.

His friend had not even dared to confess his feelings towards Emma. He could only imagine the storm that Killian was suffering, feeling the pressure on both sides. What kind of person was he, using his dear friend for his own interests?

"She trusts me, Dave, she has opened up to me, confessing her worst experiences of the past." Killian continued, each of his words acting like a dart of guilt piercing his heart. "When she told me about Neal, I just wanted to strangle him with my own hands, well hand…” He raised his prosthesis in a gesture of contempt, ” If I had him in front of me..., or punch the other bloke, Walsh, in the face. She trusted those two assholes and they took advantage of her, lying and betraying her in the most atrocious way. But then, I realized that I was acting the same bloody awful way."

"It's not the same, Killian." David replied weakly, feeling the hole in his stomach deepen when he saw his friend in such a state.

"Are you sure, mate? Because as I see it, I've taken advantage of her with the aim of bringing her closer to you and I've been lying to her all this time."

"You love her, don't you?"

Killian pressed his lips together before answering, while squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. "I do." He confessed through a shaky whisper.

David almost had to repress a gasp at the irony. If they had been in other circumstances, he would have been the happiest person in the world to know that his daughter had found the best possible companion, a devoted, loyal, honorable person. And yet now, due to his own selfishness, two people who were meant to be together might have their future endangered.

"I'm going to talk to Mary Margaret. We'll find a way to fix this, Killian. I promise." He assured, his lips drawing a smile that he hoped would be reassuring enough, though he was actually dying inside, wondering how the hell they were going to get out of this.

* * *

Killian had left just ten minutes ago when David received another visitor in his office. Mary Margaret hurried inside, taking the chair Killian had left free. The moment his gaze met his wife's, he noticed her creased forehead, her face pale, her eyes lacking their usual brightness. "What's wrong, darling?"

David held his breath, his stomach tightening into knots. He was not sure he could handle a new addition to his problems. Before answering, Mary Margaret twisted her ring while biting her lower lip. "We have made a terrible mistake, David."

He massaged his temples, letting out a deep exhale. He suspected what Mary Margaret was referring to, but that did not make it any easier, not after his previous conversation with Killian. She must have understood his silence as an invitation to continue, since, without waiting for a reply, she spoke again.

"I met with Emma today. She texted asking me to see her." David's heart skipped a beat. This was the first time that Emma took the initiative to see one of them alone, without Killian being present.

"That's a good thing, isn’t it?" He tentatively suggested, still reluctant to hear that such a meeting might be the cause of the state of uneasiness in his wife.

"Yes, it was good. She trusted me, David." Her voice came with a hint of emotion, while her eyes regained some of that spark of hope so characteristic in her. "I'm so glad that she opened up to us. We got a brilliant daughter, brave, small, caring."

"But..."

"But... she was so worried about Killian's attitude. She thought that his sudden mood swings could be her fault..." Her voice trailed off as she ran her hands down her cheeks. "They are so in love and we're ruining everything, David." Mary Margaret's eyes filled with tears, though she blinked a couple of times, holding them back.

His chest constricted in agony. He couldn't bear to see his wife cry. From that day when he had had to say goodbye to his newborn daughter and then found Mary Margaret crying silently for her lost daughter, lonely, and desperate in a hospital room, he had sworn to himself that he would do everything in his power to ease her sorrows and keep suffering away from her. It was evident that he had done a poor job because the tribulations had not stopped hitting them in one way or another.

He got up and reached for her, kneeling by her side as he held her hands in his. "She told you that? That she was in love with Killian?" He asked in a soft voice, feeling his heart pound against his ribcage.

She shook her head, her lips drawing a tiny smile. "Not with words, but anyone who sees them together can deduce it."

"Killian was here a moment ago, he did recognize that he was in love with Emma. He's about to break up, sweetheart." David confessed, looking for his wife's gaze, in an attempt to find refuge and comfort in the serenity of her eyes. He could only see Emma's eyes reflected in her mother's, causing the tug of guilt to tighten his grip on his stomach.

"We must confess the truth, David." Her tone was urgent, but also determined. "Who knows? Maybe there's a way to expose the reality that doesn't make her run away. We should also try to reduce Killian's participation to the minimum possible."

Although Mary Margaret was right, the possibility that they had already lived through their last moments of happiness with Emma caused a gripping sensation to crawl to his heart, squeezing hard. No, he needed one last chance to treasure a handful more of memories with his daughter. "You're right, we'll do it after Killian's birthday." They were not going to ruin Killian’s day even more. This gave them three more days to figure out how to approach the subject to Emma in the best possible way.

Mary Margaret accepted with a small nod of her head while the corners of his lips raised forming a tiny smile of resignation.

He consoled himself with the idea that they would still have three more calm days before the storm. Because if he was sure of something, it was that there would be a storm the moment in which the truth was revealed, either in the form of a light wind, leaving small damages in its wake, or possibly like a tsunami with the capacity to devastate everything around.

* * *

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke - February 25, 2018**

Killian had not celebrated his birthday for ten years, since that day was a constant reminder that he was able to add one more year to his marker while others, who perhaps deserved it more, hadn't been so lucky.

David and Mary Margaret had accepted it at first, the loss of his brother and their friend still too fresh in everyone's memories, but gradually, they had tried to go back to the old habits of making a special event for each of their birthdays. He had appreciated the gesture, he really had, but his birthday would never be the same without his brother by his side.

During the first twenty-two years of his life, but especially after the death of their mother and the abandonment of their father, Liam had been responsible for making that day something special, a unique event. He just could not bear the thought of never having him next to him on that day, so he had chosen to ignore it, which meant no gifts, no birthday cake and, obviously, no  _happy birthday_ song.

Even with Milah, he hadn't recovered enough strength to start celebrating his birthday again. Moreover, when that mortal accident ripped her out of his arms forever, his resentment towards that date only increased.

Still, his friends always managed to be with him on that day, even they had traveled once to Spain where he was covering a news event. " _We have never been to Madrid_." It had been their excuse, which he had accepted because, deep down, he had always been grateful for those little gestures of affection that reminded him that he was still important to someone.

Today was different, though. His uneasiness still lingered, accompanied also by the weight of guilt and regret. But that did not prevent him, for the first time, from feeling some eagerness for spending the day with his friends and, of course, with Emma.

He had spent the morning making arrangements to start a new course and he had not even mentioned to Emma that today was his birthday, but he would meet her and the Nolans later, for dinner at Granny's. Those were his thoughts - spending a nice evening surrounded by the people he cared for - while he walked to his apartment to take a quick shower and then meet them. What he saw when he opened the door though, caused his heart to drop into his stomach, any excitement for the celebration suddenly vanished.

The image of a perfect family was in front of him, a happy daughter surrounded by her caring parents while all of them watched a family photo album full of memories, all peppered with loving comments.

The reality was slightly different, though. For Emma and the rest of the world, they were no more than three acquaintances, waiting for him to arrive. And this photo album did not keep shared memories, rather his own memories of the past.

There was another element present in that image that, under other circumstances, would have been idyllic, a secret hovering over them, extending its invisible tentacles with the threat that that scene might never happen.

Killian was not entirely sure why the scene had affected him so much, almost to the point of getting sick. They were there for him after all, to accompany him on his special day. And most importantly, they seemed happy, so engaged in both the photos and the conversation that they did not even realize at first that he had already arrived.

But he couldn't bear the thought of Emma losing her parents when she had just found them — even if she did not know it yet — or they losing their beloved daughter they had always longed for. He felt responsible for maintaining that opportunity they deserved so much.

He was already on edge, unable to control his inner turmoil, experiencing an ongoing roller coaster of emotions that left him exhausted and frustrated, all his energy and strength drained from his body. He was the real threat here. Maybe the best thing for everyone would be for him to disappear for a while...

"Killian! We didn't hear you arrive!" Mary Margaret's excited voice brought him back to reality.

"Hey!" The moment Emma realized his presence, it was as if his entire living room lit up thanks to her bright smile and the flash of her eyes. He just needed a brief glimpse of her emerald gaze so that his heart would calm down, such was the power she had over him.

She got up then, walking towards him, causing his skin to tingle, craving for her touch.

She made him feel alive, making him rediscover feelings that he thought were long buried, challenging him constantly, both with her talent and with the promise of a future - with the possibility that not everything was lost for him. She managed that at least during the instant their eyes met, everything else would no longer matter.

"I hope you don't mind..." She offered him a small tentative smile before continuing. "We thought it was better if we waited for you here, since today... well, you know." She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. His heart shrank a little as he realized that he was the cause of her nervousness. David and Mary Margaret might have warned her beforehand and she was acting cautiously for him.

He cast a sidelong glance at his friends, who had decided to stay in the background, still sitting on the couch. David shrugged while the corners of Mary Margaret's lips rose slightly in encouragement.  
  
"You can say the word, love." He offered her a reassuring smile as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her toward him, his eyes never leaving hers.  
  
She tilted her head and studied him from underneath her lashes. "I just... I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable."

"With you? Never." He could not resist it anymore, and closed the distance between them, burying his head in the gap between her shoulder and her neck in a hug so tight that he feared he might hurt her. She did not complain though and returned the embrace with the same enthusiasm.

It was at times like this that he would have given everything to keep his left hand, such was his need to feel her on all levels. He sought refuge in her arms, letting her scent intoxicate him, the warmth of her body against his acting as a balm for his poor soul.

"Happy birthday, Killian." She whispered into his ear, her warm breath sending electric shocks up his spine, causing him to tighten the hug even more.

He swallowed the lump growing in his dry throat before muttering in a broken voice, "Thank you, love."

It was like this, in the middle of his living room, with his friends as witnesses while he clung to Emma for dear life, when he realized that he could not continue like this. He could not force his friends to confess. They were the ones who should tell the truth to their daughter when they thought the time had come, not because of fear that he would explode. He was interfering with the whole process, becoming a real threat.

No, he had to make a getaway as soon as possible, take distance and figure out a way to solve all this without the need for too much collateral damage. Maybe it would only take a couple of days, he tried to convince himself, although he was aware that he was not going to find any magic formula. Still, perhaps the distance allowed him to recover enough strength to face everything that was to come.

He’d look for the first flight to London tomorrow, and would only tell his friends about his improvised trip at the last moment, to prevent them from trying to change his mind. Even so, the idea of separating from Emma dug a hole in his heart so deep that he did not know if he would be strong enough to take that flight.

* * *

 

 

 

**_TheLadySwan:_ ** _There is something exciting when you give away a blank photo album. You are not only delivering a material object, a handful of blank pages bound in leather. You are actually offering a promise in the form of trusting that the person who receives it will be able to live experiences that deserve to be immortalized, filling in this way, those pages of memories that will last forever. There is also something a little more selfish in the act, that is, the hope that your image occupies a place between those pages since that would mean that you too will be part of those memories ... Happy birthday._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I'm sorry... Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)_   
>  _What to expect from the next chapter? Will Killian be able to go to London to give the Nolans more time? We'll find out next week..._


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is going to be a bit intense... for reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to express my gratitude to all those who have given this story a chance, thanks for your likes, comments, kudos and reblogs. It means the world to me.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to my beta, Amy, for doing her magic and to my artist, Kate. Don't forget to visit her blog and enjoy her amazing art. The art that accompanies this chapter perfectly captures a decisive moment in the story.
> 
> Sara, thank you for everything.

# CHAPTER 10

  _My dearest Emma,_

_I still can't believe that we've finally been able to see you, actually see you, on your twenty-eighth birthday. Perhaps I could have left you this letter right there, along with the rest of the gifts you received on your special day, had the circumstances been different._

_Maybe you wonder why, despite having been here for a few months, crossing paths each day with you through the streets of the town, or attending the same place for dinner, we haven't yet approached you. Or why we haven't told you the truth and we settle for observing you from a distance, to at least make sure that you are living the life that you deserve so much and that had been denied to you until now._

_Well, maybe the answer is not the most satisfactory for you, or is it just a reflection of our cowardice, and I wouldn't blame you for thinking like that, but the reality is that the moment we arrived here and Regina told us about your past, we felt completely devastated and consumed by guilt._

_Believe me, sweetheart, if we had the certainty that our confession would serve to alleviate your sorrows, we would willingly have bared our souls in front of you, although it would likely have meant that we would lose you forever._

_But considering your traumatic experiences that have led you to run on more than one occasion and the history of abandonment and betrayals that you have suffered, we didn't want to risk ruining your life once more. I couldn't bear that because of our fault, you might lose everything you've achieved since you return to Storybrooke._

_Because, as I see it from outside, you have become a strong and brave woman, ready to pursue your goals. You're also a caring person with the people you feel comfortable with, like Ruby, Graham, or Henry. And you have achieved all this without our help, so, if for you to maintain stability in your life we must stay away, so be it._

_In addition, irony, or perhaps destiny, has decided to give us something beautiful and promising. We learned just yesterday that you will be one of the people who attend the course that Killian will start teaching in a few weeks._

_Our Killian and our daughter, united by their passion for photography. I don't care if it's destiny or a simple coincidence, but the fact that you two are going to meet under such circumstances was unimaginable until a few weeks ago and now it has become a reality. You and Killian are going to cross paths and, fortunately, we are going to witness it even from the distance._

_Who knows? Maybe Killian finds that hidden gem, that talented person that he always seeks, someone whom he can help develop full potential. Maybe I'm totally biased here, but I'm hoping it's you. Either way, you are already a gem for us, even though we aren't yet able to prove it to you._

_Maybe some day..._

_Until then, your father who loves you and never forgets you,_

_David._

* * *

**Emma Swan. Storybrooke - February 26, 2018**

When Emma woke up that Monday, the light had barely begun to filter through the window of her bedroom. Still reluctant to get up and continue with her morning routine, she snuggled up between the sheets and let her thoughts wander for a while, bringing to mind the memories of the previous day.

_Yesterday…_

_Emma had learned about Killian's birthday through his friends. The information had also come with a warning. He did not celebrate his birthday since his brother passed away. Even so, they always managed to spend the day with him and they hoped that this time she would join that kind of non-celebration._

_Again, that feeling of belonging that was becoming habitual since she came to Storybrooke, settled in her stomach, spreading a warm feeling all over her body. Even so, she also felt some hesitation, not quite sure how to act in front of Killian, wondering if it was more appropriate to continue to respect his wishes or on the contrary, to subtly encourage him to move on with small details like being with him on that day or offer him a small gift._

_The talk a few days ago with Mary Margaret had allowed her self-confidence to take hold, so she decided to let herself go, loosening the control she used to have over everything and instead be attentive to the little hints she would find along the way that would help her to follow the correct direction._

_It was like that, quite literally, as she found the perfect gift for him. She was walking towards Killian's apartment when her gaze caught something that made her stop short in front of the pawn shop window. Right there, as if it were calling her, she found a vintage photo album bound in leather, with a small message engraved on the cover — ‘Collect Beautiful Moments’. That album definitely had Killian’s name on it so, without thinking twice, she went into the store and acquired it, writing inside a personalized note with the aim of explaining with her own words the symbolism of the present._

_Sometime later, while waiting for Killian to arrive, she had a nice time with the Nolans while they showed her old photo albums full of memories. Unlike Christmas, she did not feel like an intruder at a family event, but rather included, as if she really belonged there, with this unconventional family, with these friends who really acted as proud parents of their son while offering to his girlfriend some embarrassing details of his youth, or remembered all the experiences they had lived together._

_Although she longed to know more about Killian, to know everything about his origins, and she was more than grateful with the Nolans for offering her these happy glimpses of his past, she could not help feeling a little thorn in her heart since, again, she had to settle for witnessing the happiness of other people, while the craving to experience something similar washed over her._

_Her mixed feelings faded into the background the moment she noticed Killian's presence. She had been so engrossed in the conversation with the Nolans and in her own thoughts that she had not heard him arrive. But now that he was there, everything around them seemed to vanish, her only goal to look up and make sure he was okay with that little surprise._

_What she found did nothing but increase the endless feelings that danced within her. She detected how his body was tense although his troubled expression and his stormy gaze quickly morphed to an almost awe expression as his gaze softened when it met hers._

_After a tentative first approach, he clung to her, as if he was afraid that she would disappear. Since she was not good with words, she chose to assure him through her acts and her displays of affection that she was not going anywhere._

_Killian Jones was a complex man, no doubt, but also a challenge for her in the sense of trying to climb those walls that acted as a barrier and discover the real Killian behind all those layers that covered him. And she was more than willing to keep trying._

_The tension did not completely disappear from Killian for the rest of the day. She sometimes detected a glimpse of something akin to resignation, but at least that stormy expression had softened, allowing them to enjoy a quiet and pleasant evening, the four of them together, adding up memories that would be immortalized both in the photographs they took and in her own album of memories that she kept in her heart._

_She waited for his friends — maybe now it was appropriate to use the term ‘their’, at least she felt it, she hoped that the feeling was reciprocal — to leave to give him her humble gift since she preferred to do it in privacy, turning it into a moment just for them._

_For a moment, she thought she had made a terrible mistake, holding her breath as she watched Killian's reaction intently. He stiffened, holding the object in an awkward way as he stared at her, as if he couldn't believe what was happening._

_After those first seconds of shock, his gaze fell on the album while his fingers slid delicately over the leather cover in an almost reverent way. After reading the handwritten note she had left inside, his gaze traveled back to her, staring at her in such a way that her head began to spin, her heart fluttering furiously against her chest._

_"Thank you so much, Swan, you didn't need..." He reached up to scratch behind his ear, but his gaze never left hers. "I'm not sure I deserve this." His lips pressed together drawing the ghost of a smile._

_She shrugged her shoulders. "It's just a photo album."_

_"Aye..." Killian remained pensive for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, "but just for the record, I have every intention of you appearing on all these pages with me."_

_It was a simple phrase, innocuous enough, but she did not lose the intrinsic meaning. She had offered him the possibility of a future and he was offering her, in return, the possibility of being part of that future. That was the only thing she needed at the moment._

The alarm clock announcing the time to get up got her out of her reverie. Even so, she still remained a while longer in bed, lying on her back with her arms folded and her hands under the back of her head, allowing herself a few seconds more of introspection.

Even though her wounds from the past had not yet healed enough and Killian's still seemed to continue to bleed from time to time, she was going to hold on to any possible future that awaited them together. They were meant to be together, she felt it in the depths of her very soul and she was going to do everything possible to make that happen.

And that began by acting and fighting for what she wanted. And if there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she wanted Killian, the charismatic teacher, the traumatized war reporter, the loyal friend, the glimpses of fiery lover she had gotten.

With a new goal in mind, she hurried out of bed feeling a surge of energy take over her body. She was not going to stand by letting the opportunity pass, she was going to cling to it. And if that meant starting to share breakfast with her boyfriend — yes, boyfriend, she was no longer afraid of that word — as a normal couple, so be it.

* * *

 

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke - February 26, 2018**

The irony decided to show its face to Killian once more, as if it was laughing at his expense. He remembered having serious difficulties finding an available flight when he had needed to travel urgently because of some unforeseen event. However today, it only took him five minutes to acquire a plane ticket that would take him back to London tomorrow.

The moment his finger pressed the button that would allow him to finish the purchase, a wave of regret seized him. That sinking feeling accompanied him for the next few minutes, when he took the suitcase out of the closet and moved it to his living room.

The purchase of the ticket did not change anything, he could still decide not to take that plane. In addition, it was a round trip ticket with the return scheduled within five days. It was not like he was fleeing forever, he tried to convince himself - without much success, really.

If he himself wasn't convinced, he doubted that he would convince Emma and his friends. With Emma, he would have to resort to a small deception, adding one more weight to the burden of guilt he carried. In regards to David and Mary Margaret, he had decided to tell them that night during dinner.

He expected his friends to understand his reasons. He didn't do it as a desperate measure to force them to confess the truth to Emma, but rather the contrary, to allow them to experience some more time together, getting to know each other more. He only intended to give them more time to figure out how to approach the subject.

The image he had witnessed the day before had pierced his heart. It was undeniable that Emma should know the truth; it was unfair that she was involved in this game of lies. That was what was killing him inside, the helplessness and frustration of being between a rock and a hard place when all he wanted was for the three of them to achieve the happiness that had been denied to them before.

He was aware that he was carrying out an act of cowardice, at least in the eyes of the others, but he felt so pressured that he was no longer sure what he was supposed to do. Should he behave like the honorable man and confess the truth to Emma, even at the risk of betraying his friends? Should he keep the secret, knowing that this would mean the impossibility of maintaining a relationship with Emma?

There was something of which he had absolute certainty, though. He was not going to, under any circumstances, ignore that secret with the sole objective of keeping Emma by his side. If he already felt ashamed for his weakness, for not being able to resist her charms, for having fallen under her spell, he could not forgive himself continuing to take advantage of her ignorance.

The doorbell announcing the arrival of someone brought him back to reality. He realized that he had remained standing in the middle of the room, lost in thought while the empty suitcase was in front of him waiting to be filled.

He shook his head, brushing aside those thoughts for the moment as he wondered who was visiting him so early. David would probably already be in the newspaper office and Mary Margaret would have already arrived at school. Maybe it was Emma, on her way to the town hall. The corners of his lips instinctively rose at that thought, while his heart fluttered in anticipation, though her presence in his apartment at that moment would mean inflicting one more torture on his already battered heart.

"Hey," Indeed, it was Emma who had decided to pay him an unexpected visit. She was wearing a cute beanie, her hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders, her cheeks colored with a slight pink halo due to the cold and a wide smile pulling at her lips. She was a vision with the ability to take his breath away. "I brought breakfast." He forced his gaze away from her face, his eyes sliding to the paper bag with Granny's logo she was holding.

He swallowed hard as he managed a smile that he hoped was enough to hide his inner turmoil. "You've read my mind, love. I could do with a cup of coffee." 

She grinned at him, gave him a peck on the lips and, without waiting to be invited to come in, she passed by his side in the direction of his kitchen. He could not help feeling somewhat marveled by the ease with which she seemed to move through his apartment, demonstrating how comfortable she felt not only with him, but with what surrounded him.

His satisfaction was short-lived, though. Just as she was walking through his living room, she stopped in her tracks, her eyes fixed on a particular point in the room. Holding his breath, he followed the direction of her gaze to find the empty suitcase on the coffee table. _Bloody hell!_ He had completely forgotten the damn thing.

"Are you going somewhere?" Her head turned in his direction as she gave him an inquiring look, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

His hand reached out to rub the back of his neck while his brain began to scramble frantically for a convincing enough excuse. _Bloody hell!_ He had thought he would see her later for lunch so he still hadn't had time to look for an explanation that might work.

"Aye... something has come up... I have to travel to London to make some arrangements before starting the new course." He managed to mumble a poor excuse that did not sound convincing, while he hated himself a little in the process.

"London?" Emma blinked a couple of times as if she were processing the information. Her previous carefree expression gave way to one of confusion. "When?"

"Tomorrow afternoon." Her eyes widened slightly, so Killian hurried to offer something that would help reassure her. "It will only be a couple of days."

Emma nodded subtly, pressing her lips together into a thin line as she made her way to the kitchen and deposited the paper bag on the counter. Then she turned, standing in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest, her head tilted slightly.

"You know, if you had told me before, I could have accompanied you. I've never been to London… I could have taken a couple of days off…” A shadow of hurt crossed her gaze but she seemed to recover immediately, the corners of her lips twitching into a tiny smile as she shrugged. "Anyway... we better start breakfast or I'll be late and Regina will kill me."

He felt utterly miserable, a new wave of guilt tightened his gut, threatening to further weaken his fragile composure. The image of Emma discovering London through his eyes and his experiences was so damn tempting that for a fraction of a second he was about to send everything to hell, grabbing her by the hand and getting out of there, the two of them together, missing from the rest of the world for a while. He had no choice but to restrain himself, though, and instead, he offered her a poor substitute. "I apologize, Swan, the trip came somewhat unexpectedly, but I'd like to travel with you to London one day."

The faint smile she returned did not reach her eyes. He had to hold back a sigh of frustration as he approached her and began to pull the food out of the bag in an attempt to make breakfast distract him enough. It didn't work, she did not even bother to take off her coat, implying that her visit would be brief. Although they made the effort to keep a carefree talk, he could feel the tension in the atmosphere.

Ten minutes later, she got up, going to the front door. "I really have to go. See you later?" The hint of insecurity in her voice caused a new pang of guilt piercing his heart.

"Sure, I'll grab some lunch and go find you at the city hall." He affirmed in an attempt to reassure her.

She nodded, the corners of her lips moved slightly upward. "I... you know ... Do you want me to get you to the airport tomorrow?"

For all response, he pulled her to him in a tight embrace, the need to feel the warmth of her body against his too overwhelming. "Believe me, Swan, there's nothing I'd like more." He whispered in her ear. “I’ll come back to you in a couple of days.”

The moment the door closed behind her, Killian was aware that he was making a terrible mistake. Letting out a deep breath, he leaned his back and head against the door while pinching the bridge of his nose.

How could he have been so blind as to not realize the reason behind the vulnerability shown by Emma? How could he not only have neglected her abandonment issues, but feed them with his evasive attitude? He resisted the urge to bang his head against the wooden surface in frustration. Instead, he groaned inwardly while his hand curled into a fist.

He could not take that flight. Not when it meant leaving Emma, even for a couple of days. He would meet her for lunch and tell her that there had been a change of plans, that he could travel with her at another time. He had no choice but to regain the strength necessary to face what was to come. He only hoped that he would be able to protect Emma in some way.

* * *

 

###  **Emma** **Swan** **. Storybrooke - February 26, 2018**

_He is leaving, leaving, leaving._ Emma tried to block that thought, make it disappear from her mind, but she felt too weak or helpless, unable to cope with that sinking feeling that had settled in her stomach.

Deep down, she knew that she was being irrational, that Killian would never abandon her. But the suitcase, his evasive answers and his expression of ill-concealed guilt had awakened her old demons who soon emerged from their hiding corner and began tormenting her.

She did not even know how she got here to the office, too consumed by those disturbing sensations. Even so, she made the effort to get involved in her work with the goal of getting distracted enough. And she got it for half an hour. Until she had to talk on the phone with someone who, without her asking him, told her that he had just arrived from London.

 _Fucking London_... He had to travel to the damn other side of the ocean... And to think that the morning had started well, with her determination to develop the next step in her relationship with Killian. And all that she found was a sudden trip sprinkled with evasiveness. She tried to find a logical explanation, though, still reluctant to think that she had been betrayed once again.

That spiral of sensations and thoughts did not disappear when Emma was called to Regina's office to deliver some reports. _That's what happens when you lower your walls, that you risk being hurt,_ her inner voice reminded her...

"Emma!"

The unexpected shout caused her to flinch and wake up from her reverie. Feeling her cheeks flush, she looked up and found Regina staring at her through her narrow eyes.

"I pay you to do your job, not to be there absorbed, thinking God knows what and ignoring when I speak to you." Regina's authoritative voice caused her to straighten her back, as she tried to get Killian out of her mind for at least a few minutes.

"Sorry, I got distracted for a moment." Emma mumbled an excuse as she focused her gaze on the documents she was holding.

"Okay then, spit it out."

“What?” Emma looked up at Regina again, not sure that she understood correctly.

Regina rolled her eyes as she pursed her lips, she was losing patience, clearly. "Just tell me what's going on in your head. We'll deal with it and move on to what's really important, my job and this town. I'm a very busy person, in case you forgot."

Emma had to suppress a gasp of surprise. Was she being serious? No way was she going to confess her worries to Regina. She was not only not her friend but also her damn boss. But on the other hand, she had a point... Emma shifted uncomfortably in her seat while appreciating Regina's proposal. She really needed to expel those thoughts, for someone to tell her that she was being ridiculous. And Regina was the person available right now...

"He's leaving." To her horror, the words came out of her mouth without her having had time to process it.

"He? Who?"

Emma groaned inwardly, wishing she were anywhere else instead of here, feeling like a student in the principal's office. "Killian, he's leaving for London." The way Regina was looking at her did nothing to alleviate her inner turmoil. Something flashing in her gaze as her features darkened slightly. "Look, I know it's stupid - he's coming back in a couple of days, so can we continue with the meeting and forget all this?"

Luck was not on her side that day because, after remaining pensive for a few seconds, Regina muttered almost to herself, "So that boyfriend of yours is also a coward - just like his friends."

Emma felt her stomach drop to her toes as her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Far from reassuring her, her boss's words had left her even more uneasy. "What are you talking about?"

She held Regina's gaze for a few seconds studying her features in an attempt to find out what was happening. Regina’s face remained impassive, but Emma did detect a shadow crossing her gaze, perhaps shame, maybe regret, she was not sure. After what seemed like an eternity, Regina let out a deep sigh as her shoulders slumped a bit. "Taking into account that the photographer hasn’t managed to handle the situation and has decided to flee instead, I guess it's only fair that it's me who tells you the truth. I brought you here in the first place, after all."

 _The truth? What truth?_ A myriad of thoughts, each more disturbing, crowded in her head causing it to start spinning. What do Killian’s friends have to do with all this? And what about Regina herself? A wave of panic began to creep from her stomach to her throat, as the desire to run away from there became more intense. In the end, her curiosity won, "Just tell me what's going on." She hissed in a tone perhaps sharper than she intended but this whole situation was getting on her nerves.

Regina's features softened and even Emma detected a glimpse of something akin to pity. That could not mean anything good. She didn't want pity, she didn't need it, did she? She felt a strange sensation taking over her, like a bad omen approaching unstoppable. She held her breath as her stomach tightened into knots.

"It's about your parents, Emma."

 _My parents_... Her blood froze as she clung to the desk with such force that her knuckles turned white. "What about them?" She managed to mumble in a trembling voice.

"Let me clarify something before continuing, if I'm telling you this, it's because I don't get why after all that they have gone through... and also all of what you have gone through... they still prefer to keep hiding..."

"Just tell me." Emma cut her abruptly, causing Regina to flinch slightly in her seat. At the moment, she didn't want explanations or excuses, she just wanted to know what the hell was happening.

"Killian... well, both he and I know who your parents are." Regina finally admitted in an apologetic tone.

Far from bringing some light to the situation, Regina's confession left her even more confused. How was it possible? Killian had been in Storybrooke for only four months, there was no way he knew this information when he had been living all this time in London... The only contact he had ever had with anyone from here was with…

"No!" _It can't be! No no no_. She felt all the air leaving her lungs while she refused to accept that possibility, trying to block her mind. Her attempts were in vain though since her brain began to act on its own, tying up loose ends and processing all the information. Killian was the one who had introduced them to her, he had also been the one who had propitiated the first encounters, who had talked to her constantly about his friends...

Any doubts she might have had disappeared when Regina confirmed in words what she had already deduced. "I'm afraid so, Emma. David and Mary Margaret are your parents. They..."

"No!" Emma raised a finger in warning. She did not want to hear anything else. It was as if someone had ripped her heart from her chest and was squeezing it slowly with every memory that came to her mind, with every moment shared with them, inflicting even more suffering.

"Emma, let me explain..."

She shook her head as she rose abruptly and headed for the door, unable to look Regina in the eye. "I gotta go." Emma said, her voice even, though she felt her blood boiling. The weight of the betrayal was so high that she was not sure she could maintain the little composure she still had left. She should get out of there immediately. Ignoring one last call from Regina, she went to her desk, grabbed her purse and coat and then walked to the exit.

A raw rage began to bubble inside her. Unable to handle everything that was happening, she blocked the thoughts about Regina's involvement and completely ignored the revelation about the Nolans. Instead, she focused all her fury on one target - on the person she had blindly trusted. To whom she had given her heart.

* * *

The ride to Killian's apartment, far from appeasing her anger, increased that sinking feeling that had settled low in her stomach as she was assimilating all the information received. Tears of humiliation threatened to slide down her cheeks, but she blinked stubbornly holding them back.

Gradually, she realized that she had remained oblivious to a whole plot that had been hatched around her. Emma wondered bitterly how far the threads of these machinations would reach, while the bubble of stability she had lived in when she came to Storybrooke exploded, splashing her with a whole series of questions to which she hoped —or maybe feared— to find an answer.

It was as if everything she had experienced since arriving in the town was part of a huge farce, from her job, the photography course, or even Killian's feelings. A wave of shame and rejection washed over her when she remembered the conversation she had had with Mary Margaret a few days ago, causing her anger to boil again in her veins.

Fortunately, the arrival at the building where Killian's apartment was located stopped that escalation of feelings. Instead, she directed all her energy and anger into a single target. She would have time to deal with everything else, later.

There was a brief moment of hesitation when she reached his door. She felt all her emotions radiating off of her, like a volcano about to erupt. Maybe if she went home and tried to calm down enough she would be able to keep a cool head when the inevitable conversation with Killian took place. She rejected that idea almost at the same instant it crossed her mind. The need to expel those feelings that bubbled inside her was too tempting, although, in the brief lapses of lucidity that dared to appear among so much contained anger, she was aware that she was opting for the easy way. "I don't care." She muttered to herself as she pounded on the door hard.

The moment the door opened, she marched directly towards Killian poking a finger into his chest. "You damn asshole - how dare you?"

He recoiled at her advance, his eyes widening in surprise. "What are you talking about, love? What's wrong?"

"You don't have to keep pretending, I already know the truth about your friends." She threw the last words with contempt, knowing the impact they would have on him. She wasn't wrong. His face suddenly paled, his mouth fell open on a gasp.

"They told you?" He asked in a small whimper.

She huffed, while shaking her head, "It was Regina." She placed her hands on her hips in a defiant attitude. "It seems that your friends are just cowards like you."

To his credit, he seemed genuinely affected, his face contorted in an expression reflecting a mixture of hurt and shame. But she didn't let herself be daunted, hardening her features as she continued her verbal attack without even waiting for a reply. "I trusted you, Killian! How could you do this to me?"

"Emma, let me explain, please." He almost begged, tentatively advancing towards her.

She jumped back instinctively, raising a hand in front of her, thereby avoiding the possibility of her body betraying her due to his proximity. "You lost your chance to explain yourself at the same moment you decided to lie to me. How could you take advantage of me like that?" Emma forced herself to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat. In no way was she going to break in front of him, although the truth was that she was dying inside. She repressed those feelings though, leaving them for the privacy of her apartment.

To her surprise, he did not try to defend himself or repel the attack. He simply dropped himself on the couch, breathing out on a shaky exhale, his shoulders slumped, his lips pressed together in a thin line. He seemed defeated. "I'm so sorry, Emma." He muttered as he ran his hand through his hair.

Emma hesitated for a moment. She needed to fight, to expel these feelings that were threatening to drown her, but she couldn't do it with someone who was already defeated. He wasn't even going to try to hit back. "That's all you have to say? That you are sorry? Are you aware that you've ruined my life? That I don't know what is real in my life anymore?" Frustration and impotence began to take their toll, her voice slid between her lips in a broken murmur.

This time Killian did seem to react. He looked up, seeking her gaze. "I assure you, Swan, that my feelings towards you have always been real." For a moment, she was lost in the intensity of his eyes, they had always had a hypnotic effect on her, even in this moment of such tension. But she shook her head breaking the spell. She was not going to be distracted by two pretty blue eyes.

"You have a strange way of showing it, don't you?" He flinched at the harshness of her tone and the sarcasm of her voice. Something caught her attention at that moment. The suitcase, the original cause of this situation, was no longer on the coffee table. Still, that didn't prevent the pain of a possible abandonment for being more bearable. "And you know what is the worst of all? That in spite of my abandonment issues, you were willing to do just that. At the moment when things get tough, you leave, don't you? Maybe you couldn't bear the pressure of lying to me? Or did you decide it wasn't even worth the effort?" This time Emma had to suppress a sob, but she could not stop thick tears from starting to run down her cheeks.

"I was coming back to you, Emma. The return trip was scheduled for next Saturday." He defended himself in a weak voice. It wasn't enough for her, because she still did not know the reasons that had made him travel in the first place. She was about to reply when he continued. "I wasn't abandoning you. I just needed a few days to think about all this. I also know what it is to lose someone. I could never do that to you, Emma, I promise."

Emma hesitated again, her heart beating frantically in her chest. The hurt was evident both in his broken voice and in his expression. But when she processed his words, she felt a new twinge go through her. "It's not the same and you know it. Your mother, Liam, Milah, they all died. They're dead." She was aware of the damage he was inflicting with her words, but she was unable to stop, a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings swirling inside her, struggling to surface. She did not have the strength to fight against them. "They didn't choose to leave you. But what about me? Starting with your friends, they all chose and decided that I wasn't enough. Everyone - even you."

"That's not true, Emma, they chose to come back for you." Killian got up trying to reach her.

"No!" She stopped his advance, feeling an extreme exhaustion overtake her. "I can't continue with this." Her voice trailed off as she wiped her tears and began to walk in the direction of the front door. She felt again a lost girl, confused and adrift, without anyone to turn to, without knowing who to trust anymore.

"Emma, wait!" She stopped but didn't turn around, unable to hold his gaze and his stormy expression again, "I understand and accept that you are mad at me, but they are your parents. They love you. Please, Emma, I'm begging you, give them at least an opportunity to explain themselves."

A new wave of tears began to slide down her cheeks. _Parents_... She not only hadn't been enough for them when she was born, but neither was her when they found her, choosing not to confess the truth.

There was something even more painful, something that squeezed her stomach to the point of feeling almost physically sick. They, her parents, had chosen to act as substitute parents of another person, precisely the person she had fallen in love with and who had betrayed her in a cruel way. Because of them. They had chosen Killian over her - taking care of him instead of doing it with her when she needed them the most.

"My parents died in a traffic accident when I was three years old." She muttered before finally leaving his apartment.

* * *

 

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke - February 26, 2018**

Killian watched helplessly as Emma left his apartment without him being able to do anything about it. The moment she disappeared from view, he felt as if all his energy had been drained from his body, noticing how a sense of emptiness invaded him and left him dazed. Before dropping back onto the couch, he grabbed his phone and typed a quick text.

_She already knows. I'm deeply sorry, Dave. KJ_

Then he switched off the device and left it on the coffee table. The feeling of despair was so intense that his body began to tremble slightly. He closed his eyes resting his head against the back of the sofa, but that did not alleviate his internal agitation. He had failed not only Emma but his friends. He could never forgive himself.

* * *

 

  ** _TheLadySwan_ ** _........._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, again... Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)
> 
> What to expect from the next chapter? As many of you had already imagined, Emma hasn't taken well to know the truth. We will see how she feels after her confrontation with Killian and how Killian and the Nolans deal with this new unfortunate situation.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma hasn’t taken well to know the truth. We will see how she feels after her confrontation with Killian and how Killian and the Nolans deal with this new unfortunate situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I already apologized at the end of the previous chapter, but I do it again now, I'm sorry it ended that way, but we all knew that moment was going to come, right? And it's better to happen now, when they still have several chapters ahead to bring positions closer together... Thank you so much for all your support and for continuing to give this story a chance.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to my beta, Amy, for doing her magic and to my artist, Kate. Don't forget to visit her blog and enjoy her amazing art. The art that accompanies this chapter includes again one of the most important aspects of the story, Emma's Instagram account.
> 
> Sara, thank you for everything.

# CHAPTER 11

_My dearest Emma,_

_I wrote to you less than three months ago and I am already here again, holding my pen in an attempt to capture in written words the thoughts and feelings that occupy both my mind and my soul._

_I would like to not be writing this letter on this occasion, or at least I would have liked its content to be as hopeful as the previous one. But unfortunately, a tragic event has hit us brutally._

_My dear friend, Liam, my partner, my confidant, the person I love as a brother, passed away a few weeks ago while covering an armed conflict._

_I am aware that, as you receive these letters, if at any time you do, it will be like reopening old wounds, or worse, you will suffer for someone you did not even know. But let me be selfish for a moment, Emma. Allow me to express myself through these words when I do not have the possibility to do otherwise._

_I need to stay strong for Mary Margaret, who is deeply affected by the loss of our dear friend, but also for Killian, who has lost the only family he had left and with it, all his passion for living. It's as if, with Liam's departure, Killian's soul had also departed, leaving only a shell in its place._

_That's why, unfortunately, I do not feel able to return home and undertake the dream of looking for you, now that you have become an adult. He needs me, Emma, and I can not let him down, I can not look the other way when a loved one is suffering._

_I can only trust that at least you don't need us too, that your life is still full, that you have a family that loves you, and that you have already started the path to your dreams. I couldn't forgive myself if it was otherwise._

_I hope that one day life stops playing with us and that it allows us some quiet time. Maybe then the time will come when we can finally meet. I hope you forgive me then, Emma. But if you don't, at least that will mean that we have somehow found each other and I have managed to deliver these letters to you._

_Be happy, my dear daughter._

_Your father who loves you and never forgets you,_

_David._

* * *

 

###  **David Nolan. Storybrooke - February 26, 2018**

_She already knows. I'm deeply sorry, Dave. KJ_

David stared at the screen of his phone for a few seconds trying to process the meaning of the message, while a sense of panic began to creep up his throat. _She knows, she knows!_

A myriad of questions began to gather in his mind. How had she found out? Would it have been Killian the one who had confessed, unable to withstand the pressure? How would she have taken it? He needed to know. Holding his breath, he slid his trembling fingers across the screen of his phone through his contact list and dialed Killian's number. No signal. He had disconnected the damn phone.

David got up and started pacing up and down the office, trying in vain to contact Killian, his heart beating frantically against his rib cage as he ran his free hand through his hair.

Suddenly, the sound of his own phone echoed in the room, causing him to almost drop the device as he startled. He hurried to answer without even looking at the screen.

"Killian, at last! Tell me what happened!"

"David, are you okay?" Instead of his friend, Mary Margaret's troubled voice came over the phone.

Before answering, he took a deep breath, letting the air escape through his nose. "Sorry, darling, I thought it was Killian, I'm afraid I have bad news."

"She already knows," Mary Margaret cut him off. "Regina just called me.”

"Regina?" His brow furrowed in confusion. What did she have to do with all this? His eyes widened a split second later as he realized what Mary Margaret was implying. "Don't tell me it was her." His words slid in a hiss through his clenched jaw.

"According to her, Emma felt miserable because Killian was leaving for London, and to be honest, she has never understood our reasons for hiding the truth from Emma." Mary Margaret tried to explain in a weak voice. "It seems Emma did not take it well at all, she didn't even let her explain herself." David could say that Mary Margaret was making great efforts not to burst into tears, and at that moment he would like nothing more than to be by her side. However, there was something in her words that caught his full attention.

"Wait, Killian is leaving?" His level of confusion increased as he tightened his grip on the phone until his knuckles turned white. An overwhelming sensation settled in the pit of his stomach. This entire situation looked bad, very bad. His worst nightmares, his worst fears, began to come true.

"I don't know, David, I'm trying to contact him but he has the phone disconnected." David's heart sank when he heard his wife's worried tone. He really did not want to add another suffering to her, but he could not hide the truth either.

"It seems that Emma went straight to talk to Killian after her meeting with Regina." A tense silence hung over them for a few seconds. David could only hear Mary Margaret's agitated breathing. "I'm almost finished here, I'm going to stop for lunch and I'll go through Killian's apartment." David tried to keep a calm tone, in an attempt to reassure his wife.

"Okay, call me as soon as you know something." Mary Margaret finally said after letting out a deep sigh. "And David, it doesn't matter what we're going through, I love you and I know we're going to get through of this - together. We're going to bring our daughter back and we're going to help Killian, as we've always done."

"Of course, honey, I love you too." He forced himself to smile, though only the four walls of his office would be witnesses. Even so, the encouraging and determined words of his wife had the desired effect. It was time to take action again. And the first step would be to make sure that Killian did not fall back into the spiral of self-destruction he was already used to.

Before leaving his office, David let out a sigh of resignation. Once again, he saw himself in the situation of having to swallow his own suffering in order to help his loved ones. He wasn't sure he could take much more, though. The burden over his shoulders had become barely bearable.

* * *

 

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke - February 26, 2018**

Killian was not surprised when he heard the tinkling of keys opening his front door. From the moment he sent the text, he knew that his friend would end up appearing sooner or later. That did not mean he had enough strength to face him so, ignoring David's presence in his apartment, he remained with his eyes closed, his head resting on the back of the couch.

Maybe he should be angry at Regina or rather frustrated at not being able to explain anything to Emma, or just worried about her. Instead, he could only feel an emptiness inside him, as if Emma, after leaving his apartment, had taken with her his essence as a person. He also felt a sense of failure almost impossible to bear. He had propitiated this escalation of events due to his hasty decision to make a getaway, after all.

Only when he noticed that the couch sank slightly at his side did he dare to crack an eye open and glance at David. His friend's gaze, in turn, wandered around the room as if looking for something. Killian realized that David was looking for some clue that involved him in a drunken stupor.

He was not going to find anything, though. He had felt so defeated that even the idea of drowning his sorrows in alcohol was not even appealing. Not anymore. Or maybe it was his masochistic side the one that kept him from drinking, in an attempt to fill that inner emptiness with raw feelings, as a way to inflict a punishment on himself.

"Was it that bad?" David finally asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Worse." He breathed out. It did not matter that he kept his eyes closed. The image of Emma was right there and didn't stop tormenting him, her eyes full of pain and disappointment, tears moistening her cheeks. And it had all been his fault. He massaged his temples with his right hand in a vain attempt to make those images disappear. "I screwed up everything." He admitted through a tiny voice.

"Hey, look at me, Killian." David addressed him in a calm but firm tone. His eyes opened then, though reluctantly, and he turned his gaze to his friend. It was evident that David was trying to keep his composure, to put Killian's suffering ahead of his own. That, far from relieving his sense of guilt, added one more crack to his broken heart.

"You're not the one to blame here, at least not the only one." David continued after letting out a deep sigh. "We've all made mistakes and I should never have put you in that compromised situation, to begin with."

"She saw the suitcase, Dave." His voice trailed off for a moment, but after swallowing hard, he forced himself to continue. "She came in the morning to bring me breakfast and saw the empty suitcase right here." His chin pointed at the coffee table.

"Did you plan to tell us you were leaving?" David interrupted, not a hint of recrimination in his voice, but rather of genuine concern.

"Aye, eventually. But let me finish with this first, mate." He needed to express what had happened, remove it from his system, to alleviate in some way that overwhelming feeling that had seized him. "I don't even know why I took the suitcase to the living room instead of leaving it in my bedroom. I guess I wanted to make sure I didn't forget my photo albums... I don't know." He shook his head. "But here's the irony, the moment she left the apartment, I canceled the flights. It was too late, though."

David remained thoughtful for a few seconds, as if he were processing the information. Then he reached out and gave him an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder. "Why would you leave, Killian?"

Before answering, Killian took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Because I didn't want to be the cause of you having to confess to Emma before you were ready. I was unable to handle the situation, I was just trying to give you some time... I don't know." He paused, the emptiness inside him filling up with increasingly negative feelings. "It was a stupid decision and in the end, what I was trying to avoid just happened."

"It wasn’t your fault, Killian. This entire plan has been a terrible mistake from the beginning and I’m sincerely sorry I put you in this situation." Killian's heart sank, noticing the look of regret on his friend's face, a shadow of sorrow crossing his gaze.

"She was so upset and hurt..." Killian admitted, even though that would not do anything to ease David's pain. "She did not even let me explain."

"She didn't let Regina explain either." David took another deep breath while running his hand through his hair. Then he squeezed his shoulder again in a gesture of encouragement. "But we're going to fix this. We're going to let a few days pass so that we can all assimilate what happened and then we'll find a way to get to her." He stated categorically.

"It's going to be a tough task, mate."

"I'm aware." David nodded. Then he gave him a small smile, the first of the day. His stomach tightened into knots of anticipation since Killian knew that expression too well. It was the one David always wore when he mentioned his brother. "But what has always been Liam's motto?"

Killian blinked a couple of times, holding back the tears that threatened to escape. An overwhelming sensation washed over him, but he swallowed the lump in his throat. "A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets."

"I won't give up on my daughter and you won't give up on your love." David added in a tone full of determination.

Killian offered him a weak smile in return while he tried to cling to those words with desperation. He could have been defeated, but the time of drowning in his own misery was over. It was time to take action, though he still hadn't the faintest idea how he could win Emma's heart again.

* * *

 

###  **Emma Swan. Storybrooke - February 26, 2018**

The first thing Emma did as soon as she got to her apartment was to take the suitcase out of her closet and start throwing clothes and other belongings into it in a careless manner. She needed to keep busy with something - anything - just to not collapse completely.

The need to run away hummed under her skin, prompting her to continue with her task as she blinked occasionally to stop the sting in her eyes. She had already shed enough tears. That feeling of uncertainty, of not really knowing what was her place in this damn town anymore, of feeling betrayed by those people she had trusted, was too overwhelming that she was not strong enough to stop it.

She should have known better that, at some point, the other shoe would drop. That had always been her life, why would it change now? She grinded her teeth together in agitation, cursing herself for not being more cautious as she increased the force with which she tossed the clothes into the suitcase.

Just when she was more involved in the task, something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Her camera. Her damn camera full of memories and unforgettable experiences. It was the vision of the device that ended up breaking her.

She pushed the suitcase aside and dropped onto the bed, covering her face with her hands. A sob slid between her lips as all the sensations she had tried to repress finally broke the protective barrier and crawled up to her very soul.

Flashes of the last months swirled in her mind, making her torment increase. That sense of belonging that had been building inside her since she came to Storybrooke was diluted in front of her without her being able to do anything about it.

She didn't even feel the camera as her own anymore. It was a gift from Regina. God knows if it was also part of their machinations. Because, although she had tried to direct her fury at a single target, the possible implication of her boss in this whole plot still lay dormant in her head.

She even doubted her talent. Maybe all those praises were only part of that nonsensical plan in which she had been involved.

Emma also became aware of another aspect. Her time to run was over. Maybe there was nothing that tied her to Storybrooke anymore, but she really had no other place to go. This whole situation had left her so overwhelmed that she didn't even have the determination to leave. Her only desire now was to lie down in a ball while hiding from the rest of the world and trying to pick up the pieces of her life again.

Everything was too much. Not even in her worst nightmares had she imagined that finally finding her parents would be a source of suffering for her, because now knowing the identity of them had meant losing her boyfriend and a promising future.

* * *

She learned that Killian was still in town through a text sent by Regina the next day.

_Killian hasn’t left. In fact, he canceled the flight just after your visit for breakfast. I understand how you may feel right now, so take your time, Emma. RM_

She remained staring at the screen for a few seconds while trying to process the information. Slowly, a new wave of anger began to take hold of her, the urge to throw the phone against the wall barely restrained. Instead, she sank into the couch, leaning her head against the back as she dropped the phone beside her.

Was it really necessary to let her know that he had canceled the flight before everything exploded? She felt as if Regina was recriminating her in some way for worrying unnecessarily. What hurt her most though was that there wasn't a single trace of apology in the message. It had been Regina’s fucking fault that she had found out everything in the first place.

Emma couldn't deny that deep down, she was grateful to know the truth. Regina had removed the blindfold that covered her eyes, but she should have known otherwise. The people directly involved should have been the ones who came to her to confess.

 _He's still here..._ Her mind reminded her, while her heart fluttered furiously in her chest. It would have been much easier for her to handle if he had actually left town. That would have given her more time to recover without fear of bumping into him in the streets by chance.

She didn't trust herself in terms of her feelings for him. In spite of how betrayed and hurt she felt, her pulse was still racing with any thought about him, her skin still tingled, craving for his touch, the butterflies on her stomach danced without stopping every time his captivating smile, his piercing eyes or his melodious voice came to her mind.

She was not prepared to finally get rid of those feelings, to replace the warmth that still ran through her body with the cold and bleak emptiness of a broken heart again.

Maybe she was reading too much in that little gesture. Perhaps he had decided to stay because it was no longer necessary to continue lying, that he didn't need to flee like a coward. But the fact that he had canceled the flight after seeing how the possibility of his departure had affected her still kept a faint flame burning in her soul.

It was only lunchtime, she still had many hours of solitude ahead, locked in her apartment until she could finally succumb to sleep again. She did not even have any appetite, but forced herself to grab the phone and order a pizza from the town's only pizzeria.

After placing the order, her fingers slid absently on the phone screen, until, almost without realizing — damn subconscious — she found herself watching the gallery, full of pictures of Killian and the two of them together.

If she had been told only a few months ago that she was going to end up hopelessly in love to the point of lowering her defenses, even at the risk of being hurt along the way, she would have snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. And yet here she was, feeling his presence everywhere, both in her mind and in her heart, her mobile gallery full of their memories together, her camera full of his images. It was such an overwhelming feeling that she had to blink a couple of times to keep from bursting into tears again. She was so pathetic.

* * *

The next day started the same way as the previous one, dragging herself from the bed to the couch while she stayed there for hours lying around trying to distract herself in vain with any absurd show on television or else punishing herself by letting her thoughts run free in her mind, hovering over her while her torment persisted.

Two days had passed and, except for that first and only message from Regina, she hadn't received any other text from anyone, no one had tried to contact her, nor had they bothered to learn how she was feeling.

Well, that wasn't entirely true, she corrected herself. Ruby and Graham had sent her several messages worrying about her, to which she had responded only in monosyllables or in short sentences. But they were her friends, right? The thought that they might be also involved crossed her mind too. They had been the ones who had given her the course as a gift after all. She blinked away that disturbing thought, wondering if she was becoming paranoid, suspecting everyone and everything. _That's what happens when you only have some clues here and there, that you risk drawing conclusions that may not be accurate_. Her mind hastened to remind her.

Just at the moment when she grabbed her phone to make sure she hadn't received any new notification, the device started buzzing in her hand, causing her to shudder in surprise.

Her heart skipped a beat when Killian's name popped up on the screen. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth with such force that she feared that it would start to bleed. She kept her finger over the notification icon, hesitating whether she should open it or not. Finally, her need to know about him for better or worse was more powerful.

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the content of the message. He had included a photo of one of her portraits taken by him a few weeks ago. They had been practicing with photo editing and he had praised that particular photo, ensuring that she literally glowed without the need for any editing.

 

_Maybe I shouldn't torture myself in this way, but the truth is that I cannot stop looking at the pictures I took to you. I feel your presence everywhere, Swan. You are so beautiful inside and out, so strong and brave, with such a good heart, so talented and smart. You are brilliant, Emma, in every way. And I know that I won't live long enough to properly apologize to you and to make up for the suffering that I'm causing you to go through. But I just wanted to remind you that you matter. Don't let anyone make you think otherwise. KJ._

Emma lost all notion of the time she spent staring at the screen, her eyes running over the words in the text over and over again.  _Bastard_! She cursed herself once again for the power he had over her, causing her to deal now with a spiral of mixed feelings that threatened to collide inside her. She was convinced he was being honest, even in such an impersonal way as a simple text message.

A sudden knock on the front door brought her out of her reverie.

"Emma, are you home?"

Ruby's voice came from the other side of the door, causing her to straighten up as she ran her hands through her hair in a futile attempt to untangle it.

A new knock came accompanied by the urgent voice of her friend. "Emma, I know you're in. Open the damn door or I swear to God I'll knock it down myself. Or better yet - bring Graham here. He's the law, you can not deny him access."

Emma hurried to open the door, since she was completely sure that Ruby was serious, and for some reason, the idea of Graham seeing her in this state was not appealing at all.

Ruby's eyes widened the moment they settled on her, while her face twisted in a grimace. "You look miserable, honey." Then she raised her hand, showing a paper bag with Granny's logo. "If it wasn't because the food is going to get cold, I would tell you to go take a bath, but we'll leave that for later." She passed by and went to the kitchen without waiting for an invitation.

The lack of filter in Ruby was well known by Emma. Her friend was simply unable to bite her tongue before speaking. She appreciated her honesty and this time it was not going to be less, so she just followed her after letting out a deep sigh.

A sense of warmth ran through her heart as she contemplated a steaming grilled cheese sandwich waiting for her, its delicious aroma penetrating through her nostrils causing her stomach to rumble.

"Okay, I guess you've already realized that the reason for my visit is not just to deliver the food." Ruby put her hands on her hips while raising one of her eyebrows. "But first things first. You eat, then you'll take a bath to look like at least moderately human, and then you and I are going to talk, honey."

She obliged, if only for the need to ingest her favorite food. True to her word, Ruby allowed them to eat in quiet silence. The moment she took the last bite though, she pushed her straight into the bathroom without even giving her time to protest.

Although reluctant to admit it, the shower was a really good idea. The hot water falling over her served as a balm to drag away some of her worries. She stayed under the spray until the water cooled, letting her muscles relax and keeping her mind blank. Finally, she turned off the tap, wrapped herself in a towel and took her time to untangle her hair and look like a normal person, if only to not face listening to Ruby's protests. Once dressed in her favorite yoga pants and tank-top, she left the bathroom while wondering if she would be able to let off steam with her friend.

Emma found Ruby sitting on the couch while flipping through a magazine. She just needed a look around to realize that her friend had been busy during her absence. A wave of affection and gratitude towards her washed over Emma as she saw how both her kitchen and her living room looked like decent rooms and not garbage dumps.

Ruby looked up at her as she pressed her lips together and arched an eyebrow as a sign of her approval of her appearance. She patted the free seat next to her on the couch. "Come on, darling. We have a pending talk."

As she walked towards the couch, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly in an attempt to gain enough strength to behave like an adult in front of her friend.

"Killian and I sort of broke up the other day." Emma snapped without even taking the time to settle on the couch.

Ruby's eyes widened at first in disbelief and then narrowed. "Sort of?"

"Yeah... It's complicated." Emma cleared her throat, earning some time as she figured out how to explain it. "I'm not even sure we were together in the first place."

"Are you kidding me?" Ruby scoffed. "You were totally together, Emma. But that's not the important thing now." She waved her hand in front of her in a dismissive gesture. "What happened?"

She breathed out on a shaky exhale before continuing. "He lied to me in something that affected me personally and when I discovered it, he didn't even try to defend himself. End of the story." At the moment when the last words left her mouth, she realized that there were still many missing pieces in that story. She was not sure she wanted to know the answers to all the questions that had been forming, though.

Ruby remained pensive for a few seconds, trying to process the information. "Okay, I need you to give me something else to try to figure out how to help you. What do you think if we start with the current state of your relationship?" As Emma did not answer immediately, she continued. "Did either of you say the words out loud? I mean, did either of you clearly state that the relationship was over?"

"Not exactly," Emma admitted reluctantly. "But that's not important right now. He lied to me, Ruby. He took advantage of me in some way to help his friends."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, take a break darling. What do his friends have to do with all this? With you?"

Emma groaned inwardly, reluctant to confess the truth, as this would be the first time she expressed the words out loud. She clenched her jaw and swallowed the lump in her throat, trusting that her voice would not shake. "They... his friends... are actually my biological parents."

"What?" Ruby's eyes widened as her eyebrows rose almost touching the base of her hair. "They found you?"

 _No. They did not find me. Or maybe they did?_ She felt a tug of frustration in her stomach. She had no idea what had really happened. She had been so focused on the betrayal she had suffered, that she had blocked the rest of her thoughts. Now, these questions bunched up in her head, struggling between them to come to the surface.

"I... I'm not sure, Regina just told me they were my parents and that Killian knew it."

Ruby's expression of disbelief increased. "Regina? What does Regina have to do with all this?" She seemed to remember something, because her eyebrows rose again in surprise. "Wait a moment, now that I remember... Granny told me a few weeks ago that Mary Margaret and Regina had been stepsisters for a while, until their parents divorced."

"Maybe she was still around when they gave me up for adoption..." Emma mumbled almost to herself, her brain beginning to join the pieces she was getting.

"So let me see if I got it right. Somehow they found you, they came back to Storybrooke, but they did not tell you the truth..." Ruby shook her head while her eyebrows knitted together. "Why? And why is Killian involved?"

"I don't know, Ruby." This whole situation was giving her a horrible headache. She massaged her temples in an attempt to relieve it. "I only know that Killian knew the truth. He was the one who introduced us and who made our first encounters possible, and then he started acting strange. I didn't understand the reasons. I thought it was due to his inner demons but..." Her voice trailed off.  After knowing the truth she thought Killian's weird behavior had been because he at least still had some decency, and he felt embarrassed by what he was doing. Now, however, she was not sure anymore.

"And why would they force that meeting if they didn't plan to tell you the truth?" Ruby questioned.

"I... I have no idea." Emma had no choice but to admit.

"Emma..." Ruby reached out and squeezed her forearm gently. "I'm on your side here, darling, but for us to figure out what's really happening, we need more information, not to rely on conjecture. Since when did he know? Maybe he felt pressed in some way? Did you get to ask him? " She inquired, softening both her voice and her features.

A new possibility began to swirl in her head. Killian's strange behavior might have been due to his internal struggle. Maybe he had felt pressed. Maybe he had wanted to tell her the truth but he could not betray his friends. Maybe... Stop! She forced herself to stop that escalation of thoughts at least for the moment.

"Not exactly. I was so upset that I threw many things in his face and did not even want to listen to him when he tried to explain himself." A wave of guilt washed over her, as her head began to spin. She was supposed to be the victim here, right? Why did she suddenly start to regret how she was handling the situation?

"You need to talk to him, Emma." There was something in Ruby's voice, maybe her soft, reassuring tone, maybe the conviction of her words, whatever it was, she felt comforted and grateful to have her by her side.

Emma nodded, pressing her lips together and drawing the attempt at a smile. She then remembered the message Killian had sent her and decided to show it to her friend. "He sent me this a few minutes ago. It's the first contact he's had with me since... our fight."

Something flashed in Ruby's eyes as her eyes fell on the screen. "Holy shit!" She covered her mouth immediately with her hand. "Emma, honey, this man is madly in love with you."

This time it was Emma's turn to widen her eyes in disbelief, but she didn't have time to reply, because her friend continued talking. "And with this, I'm not saying you should forgive him, of course not. But he owes you an explanation and you should be willing to listen to him."

"You're right... but I still need some more time, Ruby." Emma immediately hated the almost pleading tone in her voice.

Ruby nodded offering a soft smile. "Sure, take your time, he's already taken the first step with that message. I'm sure he'll wait for you to feel ready to take the next step."

Both remained silent for a few seconds, while Emma's gaze wandered distractedly around the room and Ruby remained pensive by her side.

"I just remembered something." It was finally Ruby who broke the silence. "This happened on Monday, right?" Emma confirmed with a nod of her head. "I remember that on that day, Killian went to Granny's for lunch. He was going with your pa.. with the Nolans, and the three of them seemed quite affected by something. Killian, in particular, seemed devastated. I know the reason now..."

Emma could not help flinch at the mention of his friends and at the thought that he had sought refuge in them. She was aware that she was being irrational, they had been his friends for almost twenty years and he had known her for only four months. Even so, the idea that he, once again, had chosen them, sent a direct pang to her heart.

Something came to her mind at that moment. She had felt comfortable in some way talking to Ruby to the point that she had forgotten some of her suspicions, that was, she might be part of an intricate plot without even being aware of them.

"Ruby, can I ask you something?" Emma addressed her friend. Only when she received an affirmative answer did she continue. "The course... your gift ... Was it really your idea?" Emma held her breath as she bit her lower lip, silently praying to all the existing gods so that Ruby wasn't part of that plot.

"What are you talking about, Emma?" Ruby frowned as she tilted her head slightly. "You mean the course of..." A shadow crossed her face then. "...Of course it was our idea. We learned that Henry and Regina were giving you the camera, and Belle told me about the photography course a few days later. We just thought it was the best gift for you, given the circumstances." To her relief, her friend seemed completely honest.

"So Regina wasn't the one to suggest the course, right?" Emma watched Ruby's expression and realized that with her question all she would get was to annoy Ruby. "I'm sorry ... this whole situation is driving me crazy."

"It's okay, Emma, I understand that you want to make sure who's on your side here. I'm Emma's team, always." She reassured her. "And no, Regina didn't suggest anything to us, I promise. I'm pretty convinced that you two met by chance, not by any kind of strange machination."

At least she could cross out one of the possible plots around her now, she thought with some relief.

When Ruby left a little later, promising that they would see each other soon and with her request to keep her informed, Emma was left alone in her apartment once more. This time, however, she felt the four walls of the room hovering over her, making her feel trapped as her thoughts ran wild over her head, not willing to give her a break.

* * *

A few hours later Emma was exhausted, as if all the energy had been drained from her body, which was strange, since she had hardly done any physical activity in the last day and a half. But all the accumulated tension seemed to be taking its toll to the point that she did not even bother to go to her bedroom, but settled on the couch, ready to succumb to sleep.

Her mind had begun to navigate towards the world of dreams, when suddenly a memory emerged from its hiding place, hitting her hard. _Killian had already told her about the secret! he had learned that the Nolans had a secret a few weeks after the course began!_ Emma sat down abruptly on the couch as she squeezed her brain trying to rewind until the moment of that first conversation in which Killian had let off steam with her.

Slowly, the traces of that conversation began to appear, causing an uneasiness to settle in the pit of her stomach. Killian had shown a sincere concern about his friends, worried about not being enough for them and thinking that he had become selfish with them.

What if... Killian found out about that secret when he talked to them after that conversation? What if he felt obligated in some way to help his friends in his effort to prove they could count on him? What if he hadn't been more than a victim of all this maze of secrets?

Her heart thudded in her chest as she got up and began to pace up and down the living room, unable to stop the escalation of thoughts that had taken hold of her, her mind running frantically bringing to her memory more and more details of that conversation.

Killian had even told her about the non-paternity of his friends and that he had felt bad for not worrying more about that aspect of their lives. She herself had suggested that he should talk to them about it.

"Oh, God! We kissed that day." She muttered as her fingers brushed her lips instinctively. If all this was true, there were already feelings involved before he knew about the secret.

It all made sense now, his strange behavior every time the Nolans were around, as if he felt guilty, as if he didn't approve of what his friends were doing but had no choice but to continue the farce.

She squeezed her eyes closed as a headache approached. Far from clarifying things, she felt increasingly confused and frustrated. And she missed him terribly.

After letting out a deep exhale, Emma forced herself to crawl to the bed. The exhaustion had not disappeared, but the sleep seemed to have abandoned her.

Before turning off the light and taking refuge in the cocoon of her blankets, she opened the gallery of images from her phone and searched for her Killian's favorite photo in a desperate attempt to get his warm smile to calm her enough to get a few hours of sleep. She would have to start looking for answers tomorrow.

* * *

 

Henry contacted her the next day, expressing his desire to meet her. After a brief moment of hesitation, she accepted. She could not refuse anything that came from that little boy who had stolen her heart. In addition, she also felt the need to leave, even for a few moments, the oppressive atmosphere of her apartment.

She didn't want to tempt fate by going to any of the places frequented by Killian or the Nolans though, so she agreed to meet Henry at his favorite playground after school.

Since she had nothing to do until their meeting, she decided to take a walk, taking advantage of the fact that the temperature was pleasant enough in anticipation of the spring that would come in a couple of weeks. There was another reason why she wanted to leave her apartment. She had already begun to feel the tingling at the tips of her fingers, a craving to take pictures and escape for a few moments from everything and everyone while she was focused in capturing small instants of reality.

She wandered for a few hours through the less frequented places of Storybrooke, letting the timid rays of sunlight reach her, offering her a certain warmth.

She had missed that feeling, the magic of immortalizing the moment, of creating stories through a simple picture. She hadn't even updated her Instagram account and had deleted the last photo uploaded, after receiving several questions that she didn't feel in the mood to answer.

When she arrived at the playground, Henry was already there waiting for her, his backpack slung over his shoulder while holding his inseparable storybook. They perched on one of the platforms in a comfortable silence, the gentle breeze caressing her face as she took a deep breath, delighted for a moment in the feeling of fresh air entering her lungs.

"Why are you mad at Killian?" Henry's expression was marked by genuine concern when he asked.

The question caught her off guard, because she was not only mad at Killian, but also at his mother and at... them. The word  _parents_ still felt bitter and strange both in her tongue and in her mind.

"What makes you think I'm mad at Killian, kid?"

Henry rolled his eyes in a gesture of annoyance that she found quite endearing. "Maybe I'm just a child, Emma, but I'm quite perceptive. You took days off from work, you don't hang out together anymore, and when I saw Killian yesterday, he looked miserable."

Emma felt her heart drop into her stomach at the mention of Killian and his condition. She shouldn't feel that way, but she couldn't help feeling responsible in a certain way. The last image that she had of him came to torment her from time to time, in the form of a pale face, a gaze full of guilt and regret, shoulders sunk in defeat.

"It's complicated, Henry." She replied simply, her gaze fixed on her hands.

"Try me." Henry challenged her in a defiant voice.

Before answering, she took a deep breath and let the air out slowly. "He lied to me."

Emma glanced sideways at the boy, watching his reaction. He frowned thoughtfully, as he bit his lower lip.

"Lying is wrong." He nodded as if to reaffirm his words. "But I've learned that sometimes our loved ones lie to us as a means to protect us." She was about to reply, but Henry continued speaking. "I thought for a long time that Regina was my biological mother. I only found out the truth by chance a year and a half ago. When I found the adoption documents, she told me that she had hidden the truth to protect me. If I didn't know that someone had given me up for adoption, I wouldn't have the feeling of abandonment or being less loved."

A myriad of sensations swirled in her gut. He probably wasn't aware of the impact his words had on her. But the truth was that this feeling, the one of not feeling loved, of not being enough, had accompanied her throughout her life.

Still, she didn't think Killian had hidden the truth to try to protect her, but because maybe he had felt pressured to do so. Either way, she appreciated Henry's words.

"You're right, kid." Emma offered him a small smile while ruffling his hair. "Sometimes lies have an explanation behind, but that doesn't stop them from hurting."

"So, you're going to talk to him, aren't you?" Henry asked as his face lit up and a glimmer of hope crossed his gaze.

"Maybe, Henry." She did not want to disappoint him, but neither could she confirm it, because even though she was willing to talk to him, she preferred to wait to feel less vulnerable. She did not want to risk getting even more damaged after that conversation.

* * *

Later, Emma lay back on the couch, holding the phone while her fingers traveled across its screen. She had spent the previous hour tormenting herself, observing all the photos taken in recent months. It didn't matter that Killian didn't appear in some of the photos, his presence was constant in all of them, either because of the memory of having him at her side while she took the images or because of the idea of making him feel proud of her.

She had even spent a while staring at the photos taken with one of his old cameras, while recreating the memory of the process of developing those photos in the dark room. That place would always have a special meaning for her, since it was the one where she had kissed him for the first time.

Almost without realizing it, she found herself looking at the message he had sent her the previous day, while the impulse to answer became more difficult to stop. _And why should I stop it?_ Emma wondered. After all, it was just a matter of being polite, right?

After one last look at the gallery, she opted to send him one of the photos taken in the afternoon. It was a picture of a beautiful butterfly that had remained motionless long enough to allow her to capture it in a picture.

 

**_As you see, I've continued practicing to keep improving. Now I would appreciate the opinion of an expert. What do you think? ES_ **

It was a cold, impersonal message, without any trace of emotion in it, in contrast to the one he had sent her the day before. But photography had always been their link and now it wasn't going to be less. If photography had been the cause of them knowing each other in the first place, perhaps now it was also the thread that allowed them to approach positions again.

Just when she pressed the send button, she heard a knock on the door. Her stomach tightened into knots as her heart fluttered at the possibility that she had somehow summoned Killian.

"Emma, are you home?"

Her blood froze in her veins when she heard that voice but she remained still, unable to react.

* * *

 

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke - March 1, 2018**

Killian could not believe it. He almost needed to pinch himself to make sure that what he was watching wasn't a product of his imagination. After blinking a couple of times, both the image and the text from Emma were still there, on his phone screen.

He honestly hadn't expected her to answer him back but he had felt the need to let her know that he was still there, that he wasn't going anywhere and that he would wait for her as much as necessary.

Sitting on his bed, he let out a heavy sigh as he rubbed the scruff of his chin, assessing how he should answer it. Perhaps the most appropriate thing would be to maintain the same somewhat distant tone that she had used, as a way of testing the waters.

_It's a good picture, Swan. It’s undeniable how much you have improved in the focusing. I'm glad you're still practicing, love. I'm here for whatever you need. KJ_

It was amazing how a simple text from her had the ability to make the ordeal he was going through be forgotten at least for a moment. The long days and the eternal nights wandering around his apartment like a caged animal or torturing himself staring at her pictures suddenly became a simple memory of the past.

Maybe it wasn't the right thing to fan the flame of hope that still burned in his heart, but her reply had been a breath of fresh air for him, a promise to which he would cling with all his might.

A sound coming from the kitchen brought him back to reality. He had completely forgotten he had slipped into his bedroom, hiding from Mary Margaret, the moment his phone had started buzzing.

After putting the phone in the back pocket of his pants, he finally left his shelter and headed for the kitchen.

This had been their routine for the past few days. Since he had not yet begun to teach the classes of the new course, he remained mostly locked in his apartment, although his friends had arranged for him to spend as little time alone as possible.

Mary Margaret went straight to his apartment every day after her work at school. She always found a way to distract him by hooking him into the most varied conversations. Later, he would join her in the kitchen and prepare dinner while they waited for David to return. They would only leave his apartment after making sure Killian was exhausted enough to fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. That wouldn’t prevent him from waking up hours later, in the middle of the night and deciding to torture himself by looking at pictures of Emma or remembering every moment shared with her.

Mary Margaret looked up the moment she noticed he had returned, offering him a warm smile. He grinned at her, his mood clearly improved after receiving the message from Emma.

"Even though I can't help but appreciate your unparalleled gifts as a cook, I'm fine, you don't need to do this." He commented, knowing in advance that his words would fall on deaf ears.

 "I don't know what you're talking about. Can't I spend time with my favorite boy?" Her smile widened. "Don't tell David." She whispered in a conspiratorial tone as she winked at him.

Killian rolled his eyes as he began to help her with the preparations for dinner. They worked in silence for the next few minutes, a soft melody coming from his music player was the only sound around them.

A thought crossed Killian's mind at that moment. They weren't doing it for him, or at least not just for him. All this situation was also hard for them. After all, they had lost their daughter again before they even had the chance to open up with her.

He was aware that his friends felt guilty and regretful of what they had done, but even so, they had hidden their pain, as they always did, with the aim of helping him. But maybe they were the ones who needed help this time. Maybe Mary Margaret didn't want to stay alone in their apartment, while guilt and suffering tormented her.

"I sent a message to Emma yesterday." He commented in a casual tone, although he hoped that his gesture at least served to offer them some hope.

"Oh." Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "She answered back?" It was evident that Mary Margaret was making great efforts to keep her excitement at bay.

"In fact, she did it just a few minutes ago." His lips drew a soft smile as he offered the phone to his friend.

"That's good, Killian." Mary Margaret muttered, a hint of emotion in her voice, as her eyes filled with tears. "That's good." She repeated, this time with a firmer voice, before throwing herself at him and wrapping her arms around his waist as she buried her head in his chest.

They remained embraced for a few seconds, Killian seeking shelter in the arms of his friend whom he considered as a sister or perhaps more, while she clung to him, aware that he had once again become the link that could allow them to approach their daughter once more.

Only when Mary Margaret's phone buzzed on the counter did they separate. Killian continued cutting vegetables for the salad while his friend went to check her phone.

"It's David." Killian looked up at his friend who was still holding the phone. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she informed him about the content of the message. "He just told me that something has come up and that he will be late so it's not necessary for us to wait for him for dinner."

This time it was his turn to frown as he wondered what his friend was up to. Something told him that Emma would have something to do with it. A sense of vertigo seized him at that moment, as his pulse raced and his heart hammered in his chest. He only trusted that, whatever David had in mind, it wouldn't end up making the situation even worse.

* * *

 

###  **David Nolan. Storybrooke - March 1, 2018**

As David’s steps brought him closer to his destiny, he began to feel more and more nervous. After three days of suffering, he had decided that the moment of taking action had finally arrived.

For that reason, after leaving his office, he had gone to his apartment with only one goal in mind, to pick up the box he was clutching now in his hands.

And that's how he had ended up there, in front of his daughter's front door, holding his soul in the form of letters in one hand, while he kept his other hand suspended in the air, without deciding whether to hit the smooth surface.

He took two deep breaths in an attempt to calm his agitated heart and gain enough determination to face Emma. After what seemed like hours, he finally knocked on the door.

"Emma, are you home?"

While waiting for his daughter to open the door, he wondered if what he was about to carry out would serve to begin the process of approaching her or if on the contrary, it would only take her further away. There was only one way to find out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)
> 
> What to expect from the next chapter? It includes two of my favorite scenes from the whole story. David is involved in the first one. As for the other one... you'll have to wait for next week... Merry Christmas!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite chapters. In fact, it includes two of my favorite scenes from the whole story. David is involved in the first one. As for the other one… you’ll have to read it to find out…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone!! This week has passed almost without realizing it but we’re already here, with a new chapter of PoR. As always, thank you so much for all your support and for continuing to give this story a chance.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to my beta, Amy, for doing her magic and to my artist, Kate. Don't forget to visit her blog and enjoy her amazing art. The art that accompanies this chapter includes one of Emma’s post on her Instagram account. I’ve added it at the end, for reasons…
> 
> Sara, thank you for everything.

# CHAPTER 12

_My dearest Emma,_

_You probably would be surprised because today is not your birthday, Christmas or any other special event, but I felt the need to bare my soul and I have not found a better way to do it than through you, my dear daughter._

_I may be a fool after so many years apart, but I still hold the almost vain hope that someday these letters, these little confessions in the form of written words will come to you. That's why I will not hesitate to continue writing to you until I exhale my last breath, Emma._

_And I need you today, I need to hold on to something stable when my whole world falters and despair threatens to take hold of me, while I feel helpless, unable to protect my loved ones._

_I have already talked to you on more than one occasion about Killian and how I have felt guilty several times because my paternal instinct, that which should have been destined to you, was directed instead towards that child who is now a grown man. On the contrary, my desire to protect him has not changed in the least as he grew up. When misfortune seems to prey on him, hit him again and again, my protective instinct grows._

_That is why now the feeling of failure is more intense. Killian lost his love yesterday in tragic circumstances and my wife, your mother, lost a great friend. And I was unable not only to prevent it from happening but also I don’t know how can I comfort them, how can I help them when the pain is also consuming me inside._

_It is hard to see how the flame of Killian's eyes is slowly disappearing without you being able to do anything to fan it. What can I do, Emma? How can I help my friend? My family?_

_I desperately hope that wherever you are, your life is full and that you have found happiness. Otherwise, what would be the point that we had spent all these years away from you if we didn’t manage to give you your best chance? I don’t know if I could bear the thought of failing you as well even more than we did when you were born._

_As I told you in the rest of the letters, I keep thinking about you every day and I keep fantasizing about the idea that you and we are destined to meet sooner or later. Who knows? Maybe it's not too late for us or for Killian. Maybe one day we get to be a complete family. Until then, my best wishes go to you,_

_Your father who loves you deeply and who never forgets you,_

_David._

* * *

###  **David Nolan. Storybrooke - March 1, 2018**

"Emma, are you inside?" David knocked on the door again, with no response. Still, he didn’t want to give up now that he had come this far. "I've talked to Henry. I know you're home."

After a few more seconds of waiting, the door was still closed and there were no signs of Emma. _Maybe she is taking a shower_ , he thought of a failed attempt to convince himself. Reluctant to leave without at least making one last attempt, he rested his ear against the smooth surface, trying to pick up any sound, however subtle, that told him Emma was indeed there.

Maybe it was his imagination, but he seemed to sense the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. That was all he needed. "Okay, then." A sigh of resignation escaped his lips. "I would have preferred this conversation to unfold without any barrier between us, but I suppose this is better than nothing."

He placed the box on the floor next to him as he stood in front of the door, his forehead and the palm of his right hand resting on the wooden surface. He swallowed, dragging down the lump in his throat and closed his eyes for a moment, pulling himself together before beginning to speak.

"I... I didn't come here to apologize, nor to excuse any of our acts. I hope... I really hope we have the opportunity to continue this conversation when you feel ready."

David paused, waiting for some reaction from Emma. Still nothing. He pinched the bridge of his nose as the shadow of doubt crossed his mind fleetingly, making him question whether it was really worth continuing or was just a waste of time. He came to the conclusion that, although he didn't get any response from Emma, at least he would be able to expel those thoughts from his system.

"I'd like to talk about Killian today. I'm aware that you're mad at him, I... we understand your reasons. Our behavior was certainly inexcusable and it seems that we make one mistake after another in relation to you."

The grip of guilt and regret had not loosened the pressure on his heart over the years, on the contrary, from time to time it took a swipe at him, causing a bleeding wound difficult to plug. For that reason, he was forcing himself to defend his friend, as a way of putting a bandage on his wounded heart, as a means of atoning for his sins.

"He had no idea of your identity when he started the course. We didn't know you were going to attend either, so I guess it was just a matter of chance that you two crossed paths."

He breathed out on a shaky exhale before continuing, while he hoped to keep his voice stable enough now that the most painful part of his explanation was coming. "We... I took advantage in a certain way when he was at a low and vulnerable moment to ask him for help. Now I see that I should never have put him in that situation. You were our responsibility, not his. He has had that pressure on him, the idea of being a burden for us, of not being enough. I suppose that although, in a selfish way, I thought I was offering him the possibility of feeling useful. How wrong I was..."

David paused again as he pressed back his ear against the door. This time he did hear something, it wasn't his imagination. It was the sound of something or someone slipping down from the smooth surface, as if a person had been leaning against the door and was letting its body slide down. He imitated the position he thought Emma was keeping on the other side of the door and sat on the floor, aiming to be even closer to her.

"Confiding our secret and asking him to help us get to know you were a burden for him, reaching the point that he felt unable to handle the situation and was willing to leave to give us more time to figure out how to tell you the truth."

Once he had started with that exercise of sincerity he could not stop. "Regina told us about your past... Emma, I know I said earlier that I wasn't going to deal with that topic today, but let me tell you just this, I'm so deeply sorry..." David blinked a couple of times, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. "If I had known that you were going through this ordeal we... I don't know, there's no point lamenting now. We... we just were terrified of ruining everything you had achieved here in Storybrooke if we told you the truth."

David was aware that his voice sounded broken but also honest. He expected Emma to at least appreciate that. "It turned out that we ended up doing just that, not only with you, but with Killian." Before continuing, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Despite the inner struggle that Killian has been carrying these months, I had never seen him as happy as when he was with you. His gaze had regained its vivacity after so many years, so I beg you not to close the door to him for good. I'm certain that you are both meant to be together and I would never forgive myself for having cut off the wings of your future. I know that I'm placing a responsibility on you that you don't deserve but, if you feel the same for him, as I suspect you do, I only ask you to give him at least one chance to explain himself."

He rested the palm of his hand on the door, caressing the surface while he imagined it was his daughter whom he caressed in an attempt to comfort her. "Thanks for listening to me, Emma." He whispered as his gaze fell on the box he had brought. "You may not believe it or even find it insulting, but since I had the opportunity to see you for the first time when you were just a newborn baby, I never stopped thinking of you. You've always been with me, Emma, both in my mind and in my heart. When you open the door you will find proof of my words."

No sound or movement came from the other side of the door. After letting out a deep sigh, David finally got up and started walking away from the door, feeling that with each step he took, he moved further away from his soul, leaving it hidden in a box in the middle of a lonely hallway.

Only when he went outside and was hit by a cold breeze did he realize that his cheeks were wet from the tears that had finally escaped his eyes.

* * *

 

###  **Emma Swan. Storybrooke - March 1, 2018**

Emma remained in the same position, sitting on the floor, her back and her head resting against the front door of her apartment for what seemed like hours, as she let the tears fall freely down her cheeks.

By the time she had heard David's voice on the other side of the door, she had felt paralyzed, unable to react at first. Slowly, a wave of mixed feelings had begun to take hold of her. She wasn't prepared to listen to revelations about her origins or to relive her terrible experiences as an orphan. For that reason, she hadn't opened the door, but David's voice had attracted her like a magnet, so she had stayed there all the time, assimilating his words while her heart constricted in her chest.

His voice had given off a raw honesty that Emma had not expected. Even so, her anger had increased when her suspicions were confirmed through David’s words. Killian had been just another victim, who had made wrong decisions, but excusable because of the complex position in which he had found himself.

She could not forgive them, not yet, not when his confession and the little glimpses he had dropped were too painful to ignore.

But she had also been unable to stop her emotions, and after squeezing her eyes closed in an unsuccessful attempt to keep the tears for falling, she had finally given up. At least she had managed to swallow the sob bubbling in the back of her throat, both hands covering her mouth, forcing herself to remain silent.

She waited a few more minutes, terrified at the thought of opening the door and finding that David was still there. When she thought that more than enough time had passed for him to leave, she finally got up, but before opening the door, she looked through the peephole to make sure that the hall was empty.

There was something on the landing when she finally dared to open the door, a cardboard box, its size a little larger than a shoe box, with an inscription written in an elegant cursive on the lid of the box: _Letters to Emma from her father, 1989-2018_.

Quickly, she grabbed the box, feeling its touch on the tips of her fingers as if it burned, and went to her bedroom, putting it in the most hidden corner of her closet, while her heart pounded in her chest, warm tears gliding again down her cheeks.

She did not feel strong enough to deal with the content of those letters. She wasn't even sure that she would ever be able to do it.

There was something she was sure of though. She needed Killian, she missed him terribly, and after his friend's confession, her willingness to listen to his own explanations had increased. But before, she needed to sleep, that rollercoaster of emotions that she was experiencing since last Monday was taking a toll on her, leaving her so exhausted that she felt like her brain was unable to properly process everything that was happening.

* * *

 

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke - March 3, 2018**

The nerves gripped Killian's stomach as he rubbed the palm of his hand on his pants to wipe the sweat. He was there, in front of Emma's apartment trying to gain enough confidence to knock on the door. David’s experience in this same place two days ago made him hesitant, despite how he longed to see her again and only this small barrier separated them physically.

David hadn't offered him any details of his unexpected visit to Emma's apartment, only that Emma hadn't opened the door to him even though he was certain that she had been home at that moment.

Killian had also learned for the first time the existence of the letters that David had written to Emma throughout her life. His heart ached for his friend. He could not even imagine the suffering he had carried all these years, so he hoped that those letters would have an effect on Emma, if only to give them the opportunity to explain themselves.

But he would have to leave those worries for another time. Right now, he had to carry out his own mission. His jaw clenched, a sharp intake of breath coming through his teeth before he finally decided to knock on the door.

To his surprise, Emma opened the door before he even had time to process it. Suddenly, he found himself face to face with her and all rational thought vanished from his mind, while his throat closed preventing him from making any sound.

"Hi." Her lips drew an awkward smile, but at least her expression was softer than the last time he had seen her. While she watched him, a thin crease appeared between her brows. "You look horrible."

"Hey." A sound that seemed like a croak escaped his lips. He cleared his throat, hoping to get his voice back as he reached out to scratch behind his ear. "I can't say the same about you, Swan. You look beautiful, as always."

He wasn't lying. Her hair was pulled back in a sloppy braid falling over her right shoulder, her face was fresh, no trace of makeup, and although he could detect a slight reddish hue around her eyes, the green of her gaze was as intense as ever. The soft pink blush that appeared on her cheeks after hearing his words only caused her natural beauty to increase.

His surprise grew when she, far from looking defensive or cautious, stepped aside while offering him a shy smile. "Come in."

The corners of his lips rose slightly in an attempt at a smile as he passed by her side and entered her apartment with somewhat hesitant steps. Emma's attitude had caught him completely off guard. Instead of her being belligerent or distant, he had met a cordial Emma who at least seemed willing to listen to him.

"Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Something stronger?" She asked as she made her way to the kitchen.

"A tea would be fine. Thank you, love." While waiting for Emma to return, Killian took off his jacket and placed it on the rack next to the door, then went to the couch where he sat on the edge of the seat, feeling the nerves gripping his stomach with even more pressure.

Emma returned a few minutes later, holding two steaming cups in her hands. She handed one of them to Killian before sitting on the other side of the couch, keeping a proper distance between them, but her torso turned slightly toward him as she held the cup of what he thought was hot chocolate with both hands.

An awkward silence fell over them while they pretended to be very busy with their respective drinks. A weird thought crossed his mind then, as he watched Emma hold the steaming cup in her hands. His gaze shifted to his prosthesis while he thought of the advantage of the absence of touch there. No matter how hot his cup was, he could always use his prosthesis to hold it, thus protecting his only hand from possible burns.

"Your friend David came here two days ago." Emma's voice broke the silence, freeing him from those weird thoughts.

"Aye, he told me." He nodded in a tentative motion, not quite sure that he liked the way their conversation had just started.

"Did he also tell you that he talked to me through the door? It was more like a monologue, as I guess you have already figured out." Emma's face remained impassive, though Killian detected a subtle hint of bitterness in her words. He suspected that the mention of David was intentional. Maybe it was her way of telling him that she knew some details in advance before he had to explain himself? And why wouldn't David have told him anything about that conversation — or rather monologue?

"No, I didn't know." He admitted. "He just told me that he gave you the letters he's been writing to you since you were born..."

"I don't want to talk about that right now." Emma cut him off abruptly. Killian was aware he had taken the wrong step when a stormy shadow crossed her gaze, darkening her features.

Again the silence fell over them, while they finished their drinks and left the empty cups on the coffee table. Emma pressed her lips together in a thin line as she rubbed her forehead with one hand. Then, she raised her gaze, looking for his. "What did you come for, Killian?" She asked through a whisper.

 _The moment of truth has come_ , Killian thought as he took a deep breath in an attempt to gain enough self-confidence to bare his soul once more in front of her.

"I didn't have the opportunity to explain myself the other day, you know... I've come to ask you to allow me to offer my explanation of everything that has happened. I only ask you to listen to me, Swan." Killian's eyes bored into hers, while he held his breath, waiting for her reaction.

Emma held his gaze for a few seconds, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks as she assessed his request. Killian detected an almost imperceptible nod of her head, as if she were trying to convince herself. After taking a deep breath, she finally agreed. "Okay, I'm listening."

That was the only sign Killian needed to finally open his heart and let go of all the worries that had plagued him in the last few months.

He told her about the first time he was aware that his friends had kept a secret from him from the beginning. The memory of that hungover morning after the anniversary of his brother's death and his confrontation with David still felt like a fresh wound.

Emma had been his confidant at that time, so nothing he was telling her was new to her. Still, she listened intently, her gaze never leaving his. She was also aware of the state in which he had found himself before knowing the truth, with that oppressive need to compensate his friends for everything they had done for him over the years, to feel useful in some way and not a total failure.

Before continuing, he swallowed hard in an attempt to drag down the lump that was forming in his throat. Then, he revealed to her how his friends had finally trusted him enough to share their secret with him. He saved for himself all the details of the unfortunate experiences of David and Mary Margaret as it was evident that Emma wasn't yet ready to face those revelations. Even so, he could detect a shadow of hurt crossing her gaze.

If he hadn't known the existence of that secret, it would have been unimaginable for him to think that his friends had gone through such a traumatic experience. They had always been his rock, his support. They had always offered him hope when he only saw a dark void in front of him.

"They only revealed your identity once they finished telling me their secret, when they explained to me the reasons why they needed my help."

Killian noticed how Emma shifted uncomfortably in her seat, while she averted her eyes. He would have given anything to find a way to spare her suffering, but sadly there was not, so he had no choice but to continue.

"It was a shock to me, Emma, since I had already begun to develop feelings for you and, what's worse, you even had dropped some glimpses of your past. It was hard to learn some of those details from them instead of from yourself. It was as if, with that revelation, they had taken part of our history together." Emma's features hardened, as her gaze met his again. She remained silent, though.

"Maybe you don't believe it, but I think I've never felt so pressured in my whole life with the feeling that, whatever I did, I was already condemned. From the moment I knew the truth, regardless of whether they had asked me for help or not, I was destined to fail, either to them or to you, as it ended up happening." The last words were accompanied by a bitterness that he could almost feel on the tip of his tongue. Although he had tried to stay calm throughout his confession, he was about to break, so he felt the need to pause to try to gather his thoughts and pull himself together.

Emma took that pause as an opportunity to intervene. "Do you realize that they took advantage of you? That they used the moment of vulnerability you were going through to ask you a favor that you weren't going to be able to refuse?" The way she addressed him, with a mixture of resentment towards his friends but also with a determination to protect him, did something with his insides, his mixed feelings colliding once more.

He let out a deep exhale. She was right, but it wasn't that simple. "Aye, but they were in a desperate situation."

Emma huffed, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. "Why? Why didn't they just tell me?"

She didn't wait for an answer. Now that she had finally decided to express herself, she continued speaking in a voice that, although controlled, showed glimpses of the endless feelings that she had been accumulating in recent days. "He, David, told me that they were afraid of my reaction given my past, that they didn't want to ruin what I had achieved here in Storybrooke, but what they got by acting that way is much worse."

"Emma..." He longed to reach her, to ease her pain somehow. He acted instinctively, reaching out and placing his hand over hers, the touch with her warm skin burning through his veins towards his heart. She didn't reject his touch, just stared at their joined hands until, with a move of her hand, she entwined her fingers with his.

Her gaze sought his again, the corners of her lips twitching into a tiny smile. That was all he needed to continue. "We made a terrible mistake, I'm aware, but I was the one who made the decision to help them, after all. They didn't force me." His voice trailed off for a moment, but he needed to bare his soul even more. "I can't even express in words how deeply sorry I am for all the suffering we've put you through." He was aware that he was wearing his heart on his sleeve, exposing himself to her with raw honesty.

"The day you introduced them to me... that was part of the plan, wasn't it?" She asked with a tiny voice.

He simply nodded, his lips pressed together as a new wave of shame swirled in his gut.

"The day of the snow was also a setup, and the party after..." She did not ask but confirmed to herself what she already suspected in advance. Although Emma squeezed her eyes shut stubbornly for a few seconds, she could not help a single tear sliding down her cheek.

He had never wanted anything so much in his entire life as he wished he had two hands at that precise moment, because he wasn't willing to let go of her hand, but the need to wipe away her tears was so compelling that he acted instinctively again, reaching out with his prosthesis and brushing the skin of her cheek with a light-feather touch. The way she leaned her head accepting his touch, caused his heart to swell with admiration towards her.

"Those were my only interventions. You got along with them right away. Everything else went smoothly." He admitted, while squeezing her hand lightly.

"And what about your sudden changes of attitude, like the day I confessed about Neal and Walsh?" There was no recrimination in her voice, he could only detect a hint of genuine curiosity, as if she needed to know and assimilate everything that had happened in the last few months.

He let out a humorless laugh. "It turns out that I'm a terrible actor and I couldn't pretend. Every time I looked you in the eyes and remembered the secret that I kept inside me, it was as if a force pulled me, almost leading me to confess." The memory of that day came to his mind in flashes. "And regarding that day, I felt terribly ashamed, a fraud. I was acting with you in the same way that those two guys did." He looked away, feeling a wave of revulsion creep up his throat.

"Killian..." This time it was she who squeezed his hand. "Killian, look at me." She urged in a soft but firm voice. Although hesitant, he agreed, trying to seek refuge in the intensity of her green eyes. "Don't you ever dare to compare yourself to those two assholes. You were always at my side, trying to protect me in some way, worried about my feelings. So no, it's not the same." Emma said with such determination that he had to invoke all his self-control to avoid pulling her towards him and kissing her senseless right there.

His mind then traveled to the crucial moment, the day when everything had ended up exploding. He felt the need to explain the reasons for his failed attempt to travel to London. "I wasn't leaving you, Swan." He assured. "But it was clear that I wasn't able to handle the situation and on my birthday when I saw you there, in my apartment, sharing a moment as a happy family... I simply couldn't resist it."

"Regina told me that you canceled the flights when I left for work."

"Aye. It was a stupid decision that was only going to cause more damage than had already been inflicted." He averted his eyes, unable to hold her gaze.

"Well, that stupid decision got us here, and although this week has been downright awful, look at me and you, finally having a sincere conversation."

"If you put it that way..." He admitted, casting a sidelong glance at her and catching a soft smile on her face.

They fell silent for the next few seconds, Killian gently stroking her hand while he kept lost in thought, wondering where this conversation left them from now on. Emma's firm voice brought him back to reality. "There can be no more lies or secrets between us if we want this to work, Killian. I mean it."

Killian's eyes snapped back to her face. "You do?" He mumbled, still in awe at the possibility that Emma could forgive him just like that.

"You don't?" She challenged, a special glint in her eyes.

"Aye, with all my heart, Emma." He assured as he finally released her hand and reached out to stroke her cheek, his heart hammering in his chest.

Both held their eyes for a few seconds, her bottom lip catching between her teeth, while she kept a thoughtful expression. "I..." She licked her lips as she lowered her head before continuing. "I also wanted to apologize for everything I told you the other day. I'm aware that my words might have hurt you."

"Emma... no." His hand traveled to her chin, his thumb brushing gently at her dimple as he pushed lightly to force her to lift her head. "You have nothing to apologize for. I deserved each and every one of the words that you addressed to me."

They rested their foreheads together while Killian closed his eyes and let himself be enveloped by the sensations, her warm breath caressing his face while her intoxicating scent penetrated his nostrils causing his head to spin. "Gods, Emma. I want to kiss you so desperately." He breathed out, unable to avoid a hint of urgency in his voice.

"There's nothing stopping you, Killian." She whispered, her lips only a few inches away from his.

Killian shortened the distance between them until their lips finally met and everything around them vanished. At the moment when the longed-for kiss began he was absolutely certain that, just as he had set himself as a New Year's resolution, he was never going to stop kissing this woman.

But now, without any secret lurking, without any lie between them that clouded his thoughts, the sensations were even more intense. Her lips seemed softer, her scent sweeter, her taste even more exquisite.

After that first soft and tentative kiss, he ran his tongue along her bottom lip to seek entrance. Her lips parted slightly offering him the invitation he needed. When their tongues began to dance together, he felt electric shocks of pleasure up his spine and down to his toes.

Feeling Emma's lips against his again was as if he had found an oasis in the middle of the desert. He devoured her mouth while she moaned against his own, angling her head to allow him deeper as he pushed himself against her.

They continued kissing, alternating languid kisses with others full of passion, for what seemed like hours. At some point, Emma ended up straddling his lap, her mouth sliding down his neck, her tongue leaving a wet trail in its wake as it traveled back up looking for his mouth.

He was so intoxicated by the sensations, lost in a sea of lust and bliss that he didn't even realize at the beginning that the sensual movements she had initiated had a clear purpose. Slowly, his mind cleared enough to break the kiss, and look for her gaze as he tried to catch his breath.

"Emma, love, what are we doing?" Killian asked, his voice raspy.

"What do you think we're doing, Killian?" She arched an eyebrow suggestively.

"But..." He was unable to prevent a groan from sliding between his lips, when the deliberate movements of her hips became more intense causing a delicious and at the same time tortuous friction against his arousal.

"Emma..." He tried again, his voice sounding still hoarse. "We... we just... we never... we just made peace." He trailed off in a breathy moan.

"Have you never heard of make up sex?" She asked before catching the lobe of his ear between her teeth, earning another groan on his part.

"But it would be our first time..." He alleged weakly. Something was definitely not working well in his brain.

"So..." She shrugged. "It will be a first time-make up sort of sex, then." Her brow furrowed slightly, as she searched his gaze. "You want this, don't you, Killian?"

He saw it clear then, the faint hint of vulnerability in her voice, her expression of ill-concealed frustration. He remembered all the times he had rejected her in a certain way during the last months. The mere thought of having his way with her when there was that secret beating between them was too repulsive. But now, there was nothing to prevent further progress in their relationship and yet he was still impeding her advances.

"Of course I do. I want it so badly that it hurts, literally." He directed a look full of intention to his crotch.

"So..."

Killian took a deep breath, locking her eyes with his, his hand tracing delicate patterns on the patch of skin exposed under the hem of her shirt.

"I wouldn't like this to be just a way to release the tension accumulated during this week. I don't want you to regret the next morning, darling."

"I won't." She stated categorically.

"You can't know that, love." He almost implored, desperate to do things right this time.

"Do you trust me, Killian?" He simply nodded. "I want to have sex with you and I promise I'll be here the next morning."

"Well, since we're in your own apartment..." Killian arched a brow playfully. The tension that he had felt, slowly fading away.

For all answer, she captured his lips again with hers as her hands began their exploratory path under his shirt. They continued kissing and caressing for a while until the pressure he felt was almost unbearable. He pushed himself up while holding Emma, who wrapped her legs around his waist.

"What are you doing?" She murmured against his lips.

"I don't want our first time-make up sort of sex to take place on a bloody couch." He growled as he started walking towards her bedroom. The giggle that escaped her lips sounded like music to his ears.

She did not make his way easy, causing him to almost stumble, too distracted by the sensations, her demanding mouth never leaving his, one hand gently pulling at his hair, while with the other one she clung to him for dear life.

Once in her bedroom, he forced himself not to be blinded by the passion of the moment and took things more calmly.

He had come to her apartment with the sole purpose of apologizing and being honest with Emma. Not even in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that the night would have ended just like that, with her vibrating in his arms in anticipation of what was about to happen. Despite the unexpectedness of the situation, that did not mean they could not make that first night together something special and unforgettable.

Killian lowered Emma until her feet touched the floor, both facing each other, their bodies only separated by a few inches. He allowed himself a few moments to observe her carefully, reveling in the effect their activities were having on her.

Her swollen and slightly parted lips were a perpetual invitation to be kissed. Some strands of her hair had escaped from her braid, framing her perfect face. Her cheeks were colored a soft pink halo, betraying her level of arousal. There was a fire in her gaze that made his blood run hot.

They began to undress each other in slow motion, without urgency, his gaze never leaving hers. A gasp escaped his lips when his eyes finally settled on her delectable, creamy skin, his fingers tingling, longing to brush against her perfect curves.

There was only a moment of hesitation when she laid her hand on his prosthesis, asking him, without needing to speak if he wanted to take it off. He shook his head slightly as his lips drawing a weak smile. He was not ready yet.

"I... I haven't remained celibate after losing my hand, but with all those one-night stands I never felt the desire to take off my prosthesis." He tried to explain himself.

"But I'm not one of your one-night stands..."

 _You're everything._ The words died on the tip of his tongue before leaving his lips. Instead, he offered a soft smile. "Aye, I'm well aware of that, or at least I hope so. Let's say this is a promise of a future. The next time I won't need the prosthesis to be with you."

"Good." She nodded almost imperceptibly and continued with her task of undressing him.

"You're so beautiful, Emma." He rasped, while reaching out his hand to caress her exposed skin.

She closed her eyes at his touch, while she bit her lower lip in a failed attempt to suppress a moan. "You're not so bad yourself." She breathed out, opening her eyes again.

He couldn't resist it anymore. Cradling the back of her head with his hand, he settled the prosthesis at the small of her back, his lips finding hers again. He pushed her gently to the bed, getting her to lie on the sheets, his mouth never leaving hers as he covered her body with his.

"You can't imagine how much I've wanted to do this for the past few weeks. It's been torture, love. But I just couldn't, not like that." He mumbled before forcing himself to put his mouth to better use, traveling from her neck to her collarbone and back to her mouth, his tongue leaving a wet trail in its wake.

"I guess you had your punishment, cold showers, manual jobs and all that." Killian raised his head, his eyes searching for hers, finding a playful glint in her gaze as she bit her lower lip in that way that drove him crazy. He was amazed at the lightness with which she was taking everything that had happened to the point of even joking about the situation.

His skin hummed, feeling her body vibrating beneath his. He needed more, but before continuing, he needed to be sure that they were in this together.

"Tell me what you need, Emma."

"You. Only you."

"You have me." He assured, willing to demonstrate with his actions the devotion he felt for her, worshiping her body the way she deserved.

His mouth and hand began to explore her body in search of those places that would make her melt. The delicious sounds that escaped from her mouth and the way her body reacted to his touch caused his heart to flutter with satisfaction. He acted like a thirsty man who had just found a stream of crystal clear water. His thirst was only satiated at the moment in which she came undone by his ministrations.

He watched her features intently, her eyes still closed, her breathing shaken, a sated smile gracing her lips and causing his chest to swell with pride, as he wondered what he had done to deserve such a blessing in his life.

Waiting for her to come down from her high, he lay beside her, his fingers drawing delicate patterns on her bare stomach. He noticed she was catching her breath slowly until finally, she opened her eyes, a wicked grin adorning her lips. "I think it's my turn now." She muttered as her hand traveled south, until her fingers closed around him, causing a sharp intake of breath coming through his teeth.

She took the reins then, so he had no choice but to surrender to her, and follow her path.

After so many years of one-night stands, he wasn't used to that level of intimacy that could be overwhelming in some way. But he was completely consumed by her and by the power she had to make him shake only with the most subtle brush of her lips on his skin as the fire in her eyes made his blood run hot, his mind clouded by pure bliss and lust.

They ended up emulating the previous position on the couch, she straddling his lap while he rested his back on the headboard of the bed, their bodies almost fused with each other. If he was surprised by her choice of position, he didn't have time to express it out loud. The moment their bodies joined and began the first of — he hoped —many dances together, all rational thought left him. She had managed to bewitch him in such a way that he was now under her mercy. She was going to be the death of him - but what a sweet way to die it would be.

* * *

 

###  **Emma Swan. Storybrooke - March 4, 2018**

The first thing Emma noticed when she opened her eyes was the familiar feeling of an empty space beside her. Her brain still dragged the vestiges of the sleep, making her doubt if what had happened the night before had been nothing more than a sweet dream from which she had just awakened.

No, she still felt sore in the right places, noticing a slight burn on her skin while the sated sensation lingered in her system. Still, she couldn't help a wave of disappointment washed over her. She had imagined a warm body wrapping her when she woke up. Instead, she found the other side of the bed empty and cold under her touch.

"Good morning, love." Her body shuddered at the sound of Killian's voice coming from the other side of the bedroom. She remembered then that at some point in the night she had removed her contacts and now, when she rolled on her side, following the direction of the sound, she only found a blurred figure sitting in her armchair.

“See? I'm still here." She jocked, her voice slightly husky, as a reminder of her veiled promise from the night before. "Are you stalking me?" She added as she reached out a hand and fumbled blindly for her glasses on the bedside table.

He chuckled. It was a beautiful sound, something rare in the last weeks but that she hoped to hear very often from now on. "On the contrary, Swan. I was simply watching your sleep."

 _Much better_ , she thought as she put on her glasses, getting the vision she needed to see Killian in all his glory. She swallowed hard, the image of him sitting there wearing only his underpants and holding her camera causing a tug of desire settling into her gut.

"With my camera? That's sort of creepy." She teased, using a weird way to show her curiosity. In her defense, her brain wasn't functioning properly yet.

He rolled his eyes, smirking at her. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she observed his relaxed features, not a trace of tension in his body. He just seemed happy.

"I woke up early. I had never seen the sunrise from this corner of the town so, since I didn't bring my camera with me, I borrowed yours and took a few pictures from your window."

As he spoke, he got up, approaching the bed, still holding the camera in his hand. "And now I was just waiting for you to wake up and ask you to pose for me. The light is wonderful, here, Swan."

"Really? You want me to act as a model? Are you aware that I just woke up, I wear glasses and my hair is a mess?"

"Nonsense." Killian cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "That light has a fabulous effect on your skin and your eyes, and you always look beautiful, love."

She wasn't going to deny it, she had a weakness for the way he always praised her and for his passion for photography, causing her admiration for him to grow at times. After letting out an exaggerated sigh, she agreed, posing for him for the next few minutes, feeling like a model under the scrutiny of the camera.

"Are you happy now? Come back to bed, it's still early." She sued once the photo session ended.

“As you wish.” To her delight, he complied quickly, leaving the camera on the nightstand and crawling into bed, wrapping his arms around her.

The sensation of his body against hers brought to her memory their previous activities, causing a new wave of desire to take over her. She caught his mouth with hers and allowed herself to immerse in the incredible sensation of being kissed by such a skilled mouth. She could spend hours just like that, sharing languid kisses as Killian's arms cradled her.

"Any plan for today?" She managed to ask, her lips barely leaving his.

"In fact, I do." He admitted as he parted from her slightly, while scratching behind his ear, his cheeks flushed. "It's Sunday, remember?" The way he addressed her, in a soft voice and a tentative attitude, made her stomach tighten into knots. "I have lunch with... David and Mary Margaret."

"Oh." Suddenly, everything she had experienced throughout the week came to her memory, hitting her hard. She had managed to forget all those worries for a few hours of pure joy, but reality fell on her again.

"I can cancel it. They'll understand." Killian offered, clearly worried about her reaction.

"No." As much as everything about the Nolans still hurt, if she was willing to let her relationship with Killian prosper, and she really was, she must learn to accept the important role they played in her boyfriend's life. "I haven't yet forgiven them and I may never get to do it, but they're your friends, your family, Killian. I'll do my best to not interfere with your relationship with them."

Killian nodded and stared at her for a few seconds, that special glint in his eyes causing the butterflies in her stomach to flutter furiously. "We still have many hours ahead of us, Swan. What do you think if we make them worth it?" He offered, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Before she could answer, though, he added, "Just for the record. They may be my family, but you are, at least I hope you are, my future, Emma."

The emotion she felt at that moment was so intense that her throat closed, preventing her from forming any sound. Instead, she demonstrated how she felt with actions, pulling him towards her and capturing his lips, hoping to convey with that kiss how grateful she felt for that promise he just had offered, to which she was going to cling with all her strength.

**_TheLadySwan_ ** _I know, I know. This is not a food photo account. But sometimes a plate of pancakes is much more than a simple food. Sometimes it means the beginning of a promising day, or a moment shared with that special person. Or sometimes it's just pancakes, a sweet and fluffy breakfast that will put a smile on your face :)_

 ** _KJones_ ** _This is a message from that special person (I hope), I'm looking forward to sharing more pancakes with you, in every way ;)_

__

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. As you may have noticed, I'm not a smut writer, but I tried, sort of... Also, I just couldn't leave them separated for much longer. Let me know what did you all think :)
> 
> What to expect from the next chapter? If I'm not mistaken, I think the next chapter is the shortest in the whole story. We'll see how the relationship between Emma and Killian develops now that there is no longer any secret between them. Besides, will Emma be able to forgive The Nolans eventually?


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We’ll see how the relationship between Emma and Killian develops now that there is no longer any secret between them. Besides, will Emma be able to forgive The Nolans eventually?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! Thank you so much for all your support and for continuing to give this story a chance.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to my beta, Amy, for doing her magic and to my artist, Kate. Don't forget to visit her blog and enjoy her amazing art.
> 
> Sara, thank you for everything.

# CHAPTER 13

###  **Emma Swan. Storybrooke - May 6, 2018**

There was something intrinsic in the fact of dating a professional photographer, any excuse was appropriate to take out the camera and portray the world through it. Whether it was walking out holding hands but stopping every few minutes to immortalize the arrival of the blossoming spring to Storybrooke. Or spending a lazy Sunday morning under the sheets of her (their) bed, taking selfies and competing for who would get the most awful grimace (he always beat her, the dork).

Other mornings, however, Killian felt an impulse of creativity that made him wake up at dawn and grab the camera to satisfy his need to make art. He always told her that she was the one to blame, that she had become his muse and source of inspiration. And that her apartment was located in one of the best places in Storybrooke, at least at that time of the day, when the sun's rays fell directly on her window and made her glow - literally — his words.

From that morning after the first time-make up night, she had learned to secretly love those days. There was no doubt that Killian had become an expert in making the most of her potential and in making her feel powerful, able to achieve whatever she set out to do, whether it was getting a good close-up in a photo or leaving all her inhibitions behind to become a sexy improvised model.

She knew that today was one of Killian's creative days when she woke up alone in bed that Sunday morning in early May.

"Good morning, love. Are you up for a photo shoot?" Killian asked from his favorite place in the room for these occasions, her (their) old armchair.

She ignored him at first, stretching arms and legs, too lazy to leave the bed just yet. Something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye though, one of his button-up shirts, the black one made of a silky fabric, hanging on the back of a chair. Suddenly, the idea of the soft fabric sliding over her naked torso was too appealing to let it pass. After all, she also had her creative side, right?

She got up right away with a new purpose in mind, grabbing the shirt on her way to the bathroom and stopping only for a second to give Killian a quick peck on the cheek. "Just wait here." She murmured as she winked at him and kept walking without waiting for his reaction.

Once in the bathroom, she put on the shirt, which by chance, matched her tiny panties in color, leaving the buttons open and the sleeves rolled up to the middle of the arm. Next, she washed her face and brushed her teeth, put on her contacts and applied a light layer of lip gloss. Finally, she brushed her hair to add an extra shine to her golden locks. Once satisfied with her reflection in the mirror, she returned to the bedroom, ready to give a show to her boyfriend.

Before climbing back to bed, she cast a sidelong glance at Killian. Seeing him that way, positioned in a corner of the bedroom, camera in hand, as if waiting for his prey, ignited a spark of lust inside her, eliminating any possible previous reluctance as she offered him what he was looking for.

She sat back on her heels with her back to him, letting the shirt slide down one of her shoulders, leaving it bare. She turned her head slightly, giving him a seductive look over that shoulder, while putting the tip of her index finger between her teeth.

"Bloody hell, woman." He growled from behind his camera, making her almost lose her pose in an attempt to prevent an incipient smirk from drawing on her lips.

She let him take a few pictures, staying in that position with only slight changes. Then, following his instructions, she tried a new posture, this time sitting in front of him, leaving the shirt open enough to reveal only a glimpse of her curves.

There was something impossibly appealing in Killian's stance, a mixture of professionalism as he helped himself, holding the camera with his stump and watching her through the lens with a clinical eye. But there was also something more primal, only revealed when his eyes slid from the visor to her body, offering her a hungry look that had the ability to make her skin tingle with anticipation. The fact that he was shirtless and that his pajama pants did nothing to hide his arousal, far from deconcentrating her in her improvised task of posing for him, caused her postures to become much more suggestive and her gaze to be much more provocative.

The photo shoot ended earlier than expected though. Before she could react, Killian was over her, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss with the ability to take her breath away. She resisted, still reluctant to finish the seduction game that she was enjoying too much.

"I wanna see those pictures." She managed to ask as she tried to reach for the camera Killian had dropped on the bed.

"Later." He mumbled pressing even more against her, his teeth playfully nipping at her bottom lip.

Her resolution began to dissolve as she held back a moan bubbling in her throat, her blood running hot and spreading a burning sensation all over her body.

Still, she tried again, distracting him with the first thing that came to mind, while she reached for the camera. "I'd like to choose one of those photos to upload to Instagram. Or maybe I'm not allowed to share photos of half-naked women either?" Although her voice came in a shaky exhale she hoped to have endowed it with enough innocence.

He raised his head looking for her gaze, the blue of his eyes almost gone. "Two things, darling. First, you are allowed to upload whatever you want to the bloody Instagram. And second, I'm really tempted to share the marvel I've got for girlfriend with the rest of the world, but I prefer to keep you to myself."

"Just for the record, you are not allowed to share photos of your naked girlfriend on Instagram. Although maybe I wouldn’t be opposed to the photo with the bare shoulder…” The diversionary maneuver was enough for her to finally grab the camera and sneak out of his arms. "It's my turn, now. So go and pose for me, Jones."

Killian's eyebrows went together in confusion, as if he had not yet processed what had just happened. When he finally seemed to realize what she was planning, his eyes widened. "You can’t be serious, love."

She stood up, moving away from his reach, holding the camera in the most professional way possible. "I assure you I am, buddy."

"Look at me, Swan." He complained through a hiss as he pointed his hand at his more than prominent tent in his pants.

"I learned from the best, professor." A spark of interest appeared in his eyes, while he gave her a predatory look. "Give me your best, Killian, and I promise you will have your reward, later." A wave of heat flowed to her core, in anticipation of what he would be able to do, as she bit her bottom lip and watched Killian through the lens.

She definitely loved her life now.

* * *

Gone were those times when she had no choice but to share her photos with herself, or when she had to settle for taking selfies or taking pictures of random people in the streets, since no one had stayed around her long enough for her to reveal her passion.

Now photography was present in practically all facets of her life, but Emma wasn't going to be the one to complain, not when the fact of living surrounded by photos implied that Killian's image was always present, even though they were physically separated at some points.

It was not that they were separated for long, really. From the moment they had made peace, resuming their relationship, she had begun to add new routines to her life, in which Killian was always included.

Now, two months later, they spent most of the nights sleeping together in her apartment. That first night of make-up sex had been the prelude to many ardent nights, full of passion, nights where they buried their inhibitions while discovering all the secrets of their bodies and the magic that they were able to create together.

The dark room of his apartment, a witness of his first kiss, now also hid the secret of insatiable encounters, the faint red light causing the flame of lust to ignite at the very moment when the door closed behind them.

But dating Killian Jones not only meant enjoying the best sex of her life, it was more, much more. If she had already fallen for him despite his stormy gaze and the burden he carried in his very soul, now that he was dropping layer after layer, revealing his true essence, Emma's feelings towards him had grown with such an intensity that she sometimes felt a kind of vertigo seizing her.

That feeling could be overwhelming at times, but she had stopped being afraid to feel and express her feelings towards others. It was as if, once she had admitted that she loved Killian (at least to herself as it was still too early to express those words aloud) the walls around her heart had finally fallen down, leaving before her a new and unexplored path, with some dangers lurking, but also full of promises.

For the first time in a long time, she could say that she felt happy, experiencing a normal life, hanging out with her friends, going out with her boyfriend, or going to double dates with the other new couple in town, Elsa and Graham. She had even begun to consider the possibility of not keeping photography as a mere hobby but of continuing to expand her knowledge in an official manner.

There was a small parcel of her heart that still remained closed though, its access almost impenetrable. Her parents. Two months later, she hadn't been able to forgive them yet, the betrayal in the form of a bleeding wound still too fresh.

That was not entirely true, she had indeed forgiven them for having given her up for adoption, even though she hadn't felt strong enough to hear the full story.

What had hurt her most had been their later behavior, the fact that, in the first place, they had taken advantage of Killian's blind loyalty to them, and also that they hadn't trusted in their own daughter to tell her the truth and would have been content to stay by her side as mere friends.

Killian had tried to bring up the subject several times, always tentatively, knowing that he shouldn’t push or he would end up getting the opposite effect.

She appreciated those attempts, she really did, because she was aware that he not only did it for his friends, but also for her because, according to him, she deserved to have all the love in the world - especially that of her own family after so many years without it. But it was as if something inside her, like a protective instinct, prevented her from taking that first step that would bring her closer to them.

But she was frankly tired of that situation, tired of the fact that each time she entered her bedroom, even if she tried to ignore it with all her strength, her gaze inevitably landed for a few seconds on the closet door that hid the box containing fragments of her past in the form of a handful of letters.

She also felt bad for Killian, for the fact that he had to compartmentalize his life in such a way that his girlfriend and his best friends —his family— didn't coincide in the same place. He had not stopped seeing them, she did not have the heart to even think about it, but he clearly proceeded with caution, afraid to say or do something in relation to them that could affect her. It was unfair to him.

Since David's visit to her apartment, she had barely met them, only on occasion had she run into them while walking down the street, or had they met by chance at Granny's, generating such an awkward situation she sometimes ended up crossing to the other side of the street to avoid them, or swallowed her food quickly in a desperate attempt to spend as little time as possible under the same roof as them.

Deep down, she was aware that it was up to her to end this situation once and for all. Sooner or later, she would have to trust them, at least to let them explain themselves. The idea of being able to add another level of normalcy to her life, including her family, was also becoming more appealing. The problem? She hadn't the faintest idea how to do it without getting even more damaged in the process.

Maybe it would be a good idea to start with small steps, such as not running away each time she met any of them.

* * *

 

###  **David Nolan. Storybrooke - May 8, 2018**

"How is she?" David asked Killian, knowing in advance that the answer would be the same as the one from the previous day.

"She's fine, Dave." Killian always answered like that, in an almost apologetic way. Then he would go on to tell him some small detail related to his daughter, with the simple purpose of getting him to keep her close, even if it was indirectly.

They had agreed to meet at Granny's for lunch, like every Tuesday since Killian had started the new course. In fact, Killian was busier than ever. It seemed that his talent was beginning to be recognized on this side of the ocean and more and more people were interested in learning through him everything related to the world of photography, expanding to the point that he had decided to start a free online course so that any interested person could acquire the basic knowledge. _Art and talent do not understand money_ , it was one of his mottos, which he put into practice whenever he had the chance.

Even so, he always managed to share moments with his friends. Tuesday lunch had become a tradition added to the already existing ones, such as Sunday lunch in David's apartment, breakfast with Mary Margaret on Mondays and Thursdays and his sporadic collaborations in the newspaper.

It was evident that Killian was making great efforts to keep their relationship intact despite what happened with Emma. He couldn't be more grateful for it, but that also meant adding even more burden to the guilt he endured. His actions should not affect his friend in that way.

"She is seriously considering quitting the job and starting to study to become a journalist." Killian's voice brought him back to reality. The pride evident in the words of his friend, matching the one he felt. "You know that from what happened, her relationship with Regina has not been the same again. If she keeps the job, it's just for Henry, frankly."

"I guess it runs in her blood." David could not help but smile at the thought of his daughter following in her father's footsteps. "And as for Regina, you already know that my relationship with her has always been complicated. But she found our daughter after all, so I guess in a way, I'll always be in debt to her." He admitted, although he was still angry at her for being the one to confess the truth without caring about the consequences.

"It was Emma who found her way back to Storybrooke in the first place. Regina only offered her a way to stay." Killian replied in a harsh tone, not bothering to hide his dislike for the mayor. He did not blame him, honestly. Regina's action had caused his relationship with Emma to nearly end.

The little bells above Granny's entrance door announced the arrival of a new client, capturing the attention of both friends, who were sitting at the counter.

David's heart skipped a beat when he realized that it was Emma the one who had just arrived, as if she had somehow been summoned. When her gaze met him, she remained still for a moment, her eyes wide in surprise.

David could not prevent a sigh of resignation from escaping his lips. He was not surprised by her reaction, it had always been the same in recent weeks. He even anticipated what would happen next. She would approach Killian, murmur any excuse and leave in a few seconds.

In fact, once the initial impact was overcome, she began to walk with hesitant steps towards their position. David cast a sidelong glance at his friend, who also seemed equally surprised at her presence there. He was looking at Emma as if there were no one else in the room, though, with a special glow in his eyes that had only begun to appear since he met Emma.

She barely had time to get to their side when Killian got up and greeted her with a kiss on the lips maybe less chaste than it should be appropriate in a public place. David looked away discreetly, still uncomfortable at such public displays of affection. Killian might be his best friend, almost like a son to him, but, in spite of everything, in his eyes, Emma was still like his little girl.

"Hi guys," Emma said after separating from Killian, a small smile adorning her lips, while she offered him a shy look. "I didn't want to interrupt you, I just forgot it was Tuesday."

 _This is new, at least she hasn’t ignored my existence_ , David thought as he tried not to read too much in her reaction. She was just surprised to see them, that was it. Even so, he decided to offer her an escape route so that she would not be involved in any kind of uncomfortable situation.

"I should go..."

"No," Emma cut him off, looking back at him. "I mean... it's not necessary. It's your day together, guys. I just came to grab something to eat... It's an excuse, actually, Regina was especially picky today. I needed a break." Emma was rambling, clearly nervous about the unexpected encounter, but at least it seemed that she was doing her part to keep a civilized conversation, so he was going to grab onto that even if it was the only thing she could offer at the moment.

"I can relate, Regina may be difficult to deal with sometimes." David offered in what he hoped was a carefree tone, but even so, he held his breath, waiting for Emma's reaction.

"Just sometimes?" Killian snapped, making an exaggerated grimace of disdain, causing a chuckle on David and a giggle on Emma, who took advantage of Killian's absent-mindedness to steal one of his onion rings.

"Hey, those are mine, get your own." Killian huffed, putting his hand and prosthesis over the plate in a protective manner while making a pout, which caused a new attack of laughter from Emma.

David remained there in awe, observing the scene without even daring to participate for fear of breaking the moment. She seemed so relaxed, so happy, that he had to repress the need to take a picture and immortalize the moment for eternity, his heart thudding in his chest.

After stealing another onion ring from her boyfriend, she caught the attention of one of the waitresses to place her order and then returned to them.

"So, Killian just told me you're thinking about starting to study to become a journalist, Emma." David commented tentatively, in an attempt to make that magical moment last a little longer.

"Yeah. I'd start in September. I guess it's something I've always wanted to do, taking pictures and telling stories." She shrugged, the corners of her sides twisting upward.

"It's a good idea. You know, anything you need, you can count on us." He offered, trusting her to grasp the true meaning of his words.

"Thank you." Emma nodded, her cheeks flushed slightly, while she held his gaze for a few seconds. The moment passed soon, though, as she refocused her attention on Killian.

His friend wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her close, as if he, with that simple gesture, was supporting her in some way, making her feel safe. Then Killian gave him an appreciative look, while nodding almost imperceptibly.

David was not sure that he would live long enough to thank his friend for all that he was doing for his family, making Emma happy and trying to build bridges between them. He only hoped that this was the first of many advances that would come in the future.

When Emma left a few minutes later, she turned around just before she reached the exit door, offering David a soft smile, causing the flame of hope in his heart to look brighter than ever. He couldn't wait to tell Mary Margaret.

* * *

 

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke - May 9, 2018**

Killian decided to spend the next morning locked in the darkroom developing photos, taking advantage of the fact that he had the morning off and that Emma would be working, which meant that she would not be a distraction this time.

Even so, he wasn't able to fully concentrate on the task. That room had already witnessed several amorous encounters between them although for him, the most important memory shared with her in this place would always be their first kiss.

Killian grabbed a photograph with the tweezers to extract it from the development liquid and hung it delicately on the rope he had placed for that purpose in a corner of the room. He couldn't stop his lips from drawing a smile when he observed the smiling face of Emma in that image. The memories of the previous day, when she had been relaxed for the first time in front of David came to his mind then, warming his heart.

Just when he was about to carry out the same process with the next picture, his phone started buzzing on the table. _Unknown number._

"Hello?"

"Good morning, can I speak with Mr. Jones, please?" A polite, female voice asked from the other side of the phone.

"That would be me. Who is calling?" He replied cautiously while he held his breath. There was something in the woman’s tone that made him uneasy.

"I'm calling from Storybrooke's General Hospital, sir, since you were listed as one of David Nolan's emergency contacts and we haven't been able to locate his wife..."

"She is a teacher, she’s working right now." Killian cut who he supposed was a nurse off. At the same moment he had heard the word _hospital_ , all his senses were on alert, while his heart beat frantically against his chest. "What happened?" He forced himself to ask in a controlled voice, holding the phone tightly against his ear.

"Uh, I'm afraid that Mr. Nolan has been involved in an accident. He was hit by a car..."

 _No_.

A paralyzing panic crawled up his throat while his ears stopped working properly, preventing him from listening to the woman who was still offering him details. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to take a deep breath, letting out the air slowly through his nose in a desperate attempt to keep his composure.

"...he seems to be out of danger, but given that he has lost consciousness..."

"I'm on my way. Thanks for informing me." Killian cut the poor nurse again, feeling bad for a few seconds since she had been kind enough to him, but he could not waste more time, needed to take action before a new wave of panic gripped him.

He clenched his jaw and blocked any disturbing thoughts, burying any memory of the past that could take advantage of that moment of weakness to beat him.

Instead, he set himself a goal - pick up Mary Margaret on his way to the hospital and make sure his friend would be okay. He didn't contemplate any other option.

With that goal in mind, he grabbed his phone and wallet and left his apartment, cursing himself for not yet having been able to purchase an adapted vehicle that would allow him to get to his friend sooner. Instead, he had to literally run to school while wondering how he was going to break the news to Mary Margaret. Only at that moment did he remember that he also had to give the news to another person and his heart sank in the process. He would have to inform Emma that her father had suffered an accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)
> 
> There are only two chapters to go, the final chapter and the epilogue, so whatever happens to David, it can't be so bad, I'm not that cruel, am I? Also, Emma will read the letters, finally!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter and also one of my favorites. We’ll know what’s going to happen with the relationship between Emma and her parents. And yes, Emma is going to read the letters, finally!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe this is almost over, but it’s happening, this is the final chapter (plus the epilogue next week) Thank you so much for all your support and for continuing to give this story a chance.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to my beta, Amy, for doing her magic and to my artist, Kate. Don't forget to visit her blog and enjoy her amazing art.
> 
> Sara, thank you for everything.

# CHAPTER 14

###  **Killian Jones, Storybrooke - May 9, 2018**

Killian's thumb moved across the phone's screen while he held the device with his hand, hesitating over whether to press his finger on Emma's name.

"You should call her, Killian." Mary Margaret suggested in a soft voice. "She deserves to know. It's her father after all."

Killian nodded at her, his lips pressed together. She was right, he should call her. He was aware that he would end up doing it at some point, he just needed a little more time to figure out how to approach the subject.

He left the phone in the seat next to him as he leaned his head against the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh escaping his mouth while wishing that someone would soon inform them. This long wait was driving him crazy.

They had arrived at the hospital a couple of hours ago. To his surprise, Mary Margaret had accepted the news with a composure that was worthy of admiration, after the first initial shock. Quickly, she had driven them to the hospital and had even managed to talk to one of the doctors who had checked on David in the first place.

He was out of danger, that they had been assured. In fact, although he had lost consciousness after the accident, he had recovered it again in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Still, given the high probability that he had suffered a concussion after the impact and to detect possible internal injuries, the doctors were conducting some tests so they hadn't been allowed to see him yet.

Still, Killian was reluctant to put Emma in an uncomfortable situation where she felt forced to do something she might not yet be prepared for, but he shouldn't be the one to make any decision for her. After the traumatic experience they had gone through, he had sworn to himself —and to her —that there would never be more secrets or lies between them.

After taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he finally dialed Emma's number, got up and started walking down the hall looking for some privacy. She answered with the second ringtone.

"Hey, Killian! I was about to leave for lunch. Are you still home?"

 _Dammit_! He had totally forgotten that they had agreed to meet for lunch. "About that... I'm afraid I'm going to have to cancel today's lunch, love." He tried to keep a calm tone and even forced himself to smile, but Emma quickly realized that something was wrong.

"Are you okay?"

"Aye, I'm fine... It's David... We're in the hospital..." His voice trailed off as he tried to pull himself together.

He heard a sharp intake of breath from the other side of the phone before Emma spoke in a thin voice. "What happened?"

"He was involved in an accident, but he's out of danger." He hastened to reassure her. "It's just that they have to do tests to assess the level of concussion..."

"Concussion?" Emma cut him off, a hint of fear evident in her voice.

"It's usual in these cases, Emma, he was hit by a car. But we were told he was already conscious, he's going to be fine." He assured her with more confidence than he really felt.

"And you? How are you? Do you need something?" She asked, the way she cared about him sending a warm feeling to his heart.

 _You. I need you to be by my side, so you can assure me that my friend will be fine, that I won't lose him too_. "I'm fine." He repeated, burying those fears in the depths of his mind. "Mary Margaret is here with me." It was his turn to stay strong now, to act like the rock that Mary Margaret and Emma would need.

They talked for a couple more minutes, Emma insisting on finding out her father's condition and knowing in detail what the doctors had told them. Only when Killian had reassured her enough, she finally decided to end the call.

"Tell me something as soon as you know, please. I'll be waiting for your call." She paused for a few moments, only the sound of her shallow breathing was heard from the other side of the phone. "And thanks for telling me, Killian." She muttered.

"Of course, love. He's going to be fine." He insisted with the intention of convincing both Emma and himself. _I love you_ , he would also have liked to add, the words burning on the tip of his tongue. But this was not the most appropriate time. _Soon_ , he promised himself before hanging up the call and returning to the waiting room to accompany Mary Margaret.

* * *

 

###  **Emma Swan. Storybrooke - May 9, 2018**

Emma was unable to concentrate, Killian's words echoing in her head preventing her from thinking about anything else. He was hit by a car. David, her father, was hit by a car.

From the moment she heard the news from Killian, a wave of panic crept up her throat as her stomach tightened into knots. Flashes of David's gentle gaze, of his frank smile, jumping to her head to torment her.

The mere possibility of losing her father even before accepting him as such caused her heart to constrict in her chest. The memory of the letters hidden in her closet, the letters she had not yet dared to read, caused incipient tears to threaten to slide down her cheeks. She blinked furiously in an attempt to hold them back.

To make matters worse, the idea of Killian alone with Mary Margaret in the waiting room, suffering in silence and probably experiencing some kind of deja-vu made her uneasiness increase. She needed to be there with him, at his side, supporting each other.

She didn't have to think twice. After all, the rest of the day was going to be totally unproductive since her mind was away from the office for obvious reasons. She got up and walked toward Regina's office, knocking lightly on the open door with her knuckles.

Her boss looked up, a slight crease of annoyance between her eyebrows at being interrupted.

"I have to go." She announced without further ado, although she knew that Regina would not make it easy for her, not at least without requesting some kind of additional explanation.

"And where do you have to go, if I'm allowed to know?" Regina asked in a cutting tone.

"I have to go to the hospital, my f..." Her voice trailed off as she suppressed a gasp of surprise. She couldn't believe she had been about to say the word out loud. "...David has suffered an accident."

Regina's expression softened instantly, a flash of something akin to concern crossed her gaze. "What? How is he?"

"He's conscious, but they were still doing different tests." A new wave of unease swirled in her stomach, as the urgent need to run to the hospital took over her. "Killian is there, I need to get to him."

Regina's impassive pose disappeared for a moment, she seemed bewildered for a few seconds until she finally reacted, shaking her head slightly. "Sure, of course, go and inform me when you know anything, Emma."

She simply nodded, the corner of her mouth twisting slightly upward in appreciation before turning and leaving the office and town hall in the direction of the hospital.

* * *

Emma only realized the implications of entering the hospital when she arrived there. That was the place where she was born, the place where she had shared the last moment with her parents before they gave her up for adoption. Or at least that was what she supposed. She did not know what had really happened. A tug of regret for not having tried to find out before settled in her stomach.

She wandered through the corridors of the hospital trying to locate the Emergency room while wondering if her parents had also taken that same route when the delivery was approaching, if Mary Margaret would have been in pain, if David would have held her hand in the process. _Enough_! Emma shook her head in an attempt to make those thoughts disappear. She would have time to find the answers to those questions later. Right now, she needed to find Killian, desperately.

There was no sign of Killian when she arrived in the waiting room though. Who she did locate was Mary Margaret, sitting there while clasping her hands together.

Emma allowed herself a few seconds to observe her before announcing her presence. The expression of concern was evident in the lines of her face, her brow slightly furrowed, her lips pressed together, her gaze lost miles or maybe years away. There was something in her pose though, something stoic, almost regal, as if she was implying that no matter what happened, she was going to get back up and keep fighting.

When Mary Margaret’s gaze drifted to meet hers, her eyes went wide and her mouth hung open. "Emma!" She almost screamed as her face lit up. She might have realized her impulsive reaction because she quickly schooled her features in a cautious expression.

Emma looked away uncomfortably, wondering where Killian had gone as she felt a slight blush rise to her cheeks. She forced herself to behave like an adult though, especially given the place and situation she was in, and walked hesitantly to sit near Mary Margaret, leaving a free seat between them.

"Hi, Killian told me... how's David doing? Do you know something new?" Emma asked hating how weak her voice sounded, her heart pounding against her chest.

Mary Margaret shook her head slowly, a shadow of sadness crossing her features. "Nothing yet, I'm afraid." She remained thoughtful for a few seconds until she seemed to remember something. "Killian went to get us something to eat, but he will be here any moment." The corners of her lips twisted slightly upwards.

"I... I'm sorry, I should have brought you something from Granny's, I just ... I didn't think about it." A wave of embarrassment washed over her when she realized that, in her hurry to get to the hospital, she hadn't bothered to bring them a decent meal after God knows how many hours in the hospital. She had not even bothered to eat any food herself.

"It's okay, Emma, I don't even have an appetite." She reached for her arm, but dropped her hand halfway as if she had changed her mind. Emma was aware that her cautious attitude was her own fault, but that did not stop her from feeling a kind of rejection.

An awkward silence fell over them as Emma began to regret having come, she did not feel able to deal with the amount of mixed feelings that collided inside her.

"You know, it's ironic, because David learned of your existence for the first time here, in this same hospital."

Her body tensed, while she began to feel a tingling in the back of her neck at the mere mention of her past. She held her breath, keeping her lips sealed while secretly wishing, and also fearing, that Mary Margaret would continue.

She did not seem to have noticed the effect of her words on Emma, her gaze remained lost, her voice trailing a hint of melancholy. "Luck, or maybe fate, brought him here just two days after your birth."

Emma's heart tightened in her chest, as she watched how Mary Margaret's eyes filled with tears. "I think he never recovered from the fact that he had to say goodbye to you within a few minutes of knowing you existed. He fell enamored of his little baby girl - Emma, of you."

The look of sadness and regret that Mary Margaret gave her caused her eyes to begin to sting while a multitude of new feelings began to crowd inside her, her head spinning, unable to process the information.

"We... we will have time to talk about all that, when he leaves the hospital." It was the only thing Emma could offer at that moment. She was sure that she would not be able to prevent an overwhelming feeling from consuming her if they kept talking.

"I'd like that... We owe you so many explanations ..." Mary Margaret muttered, giving her a smile full of affection that went straight to her heart. She returned the smile while nodding in silence.

That was the moment when Killian decided to appear, holding two sandwiches and two paper cups somewhat precariously between his hand and the prosthesis.

"Hey." Emma wiped away her tears quickly with one hand as she got up and, after giving him a quick peck on the lips, helped him with the food, handing Mary Margaret one of the sandwiches and a cup of coffee.

"I'm sorry love, if I had known you would come, I'd have bought something for you." Killian gave her an apologetic look as he offered her his sandwich.

"We can share. I'm not hungry, really." Mary Margaret added as she handed her half of her sandwich.

"Thank you." Emma accepted through a small smile.

Killian stood there with a confused expression on his face, as if he did not quite believe what was happening in front of him.

Emma did not quite believe it either honestly, but that first step of approaching Mary Margaret, far from frightening her or pushing her away, was helping the barrier around her heart to begin to melt, and she wondered for the first time how it would be experiencing the true love of a family.

Those thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a doctor who was asking about the relatives of David Nolan. The three rose suddenly, approaching the doctor.

"Good afternoon, I'm Dr. Whale and I'm in charge of treating Mr. Nolan." He looked up from his tablet and looked at them. "Are you all family?" He asked with a skeptical expression.

"Of course, I’m his wife." Mary Margaret assured.

"And I am his daughter." Emma snapped, her mouth acting on her own before her brain had time to process the words. But it was the truth, that was how she felt in this moment and no shoddy doctor was going to prevent her from knowing the state of her father.

"And I'm her boyfriend." Killian added, placing an arm around her shoulders in a protective attitude.

The doctor gave them a last skeptical glance before turning back to the tablet. "Mr. Nolan is undoubtedly a fortunate man. Beyond the concussion suffered by the impact, he has only suffered a few bruises and also had a dislocated shoulder, which we have already placed back in its position.”

Emma let out the breath she had been holding, a sense of relief spreading all over her body. Killian, on the other hand, pulled her even closer to him as he placed his other arm around Mary Margaret's shoulders.

"Thank God," Mary Margaret muttered, clinging to Killian.

"Since the blow to the head was quite strong, it is advisable that he stay here under observation at least during the night. And now, you can come to visit him, but no more than two people each time, please. He needs to rest." After giving some final instructions, the doctor offered to accompany Mary Margaret to the bay in which her husband was located.

Only when they disappeared from sight did Emma take refuge in Killian, burying her head in his chest, choking back a sob while he wrapped her in a tight hug. "He's fine, Swan, everything's going to be fine." Killian murmured, his reassuring words hiding a deeper meaning to which she decided to cling with all her might. Yes, everything was going to be just fine.

* * *

 

###  **David Nolan. Storybrooke - May 9, 2018**

David's head was going to explode. He made an attempt to massage his temples to relieve the pain, but then he realized that it was an almost impossible task. His right arm was in a sling — dislocated shoulder, they had told him — and he had an intravenous line placed in the other arm to administer some type of pain medication, he supposed.

A whine, a mixture of pain and frustration, slid between his lips as he waited desperately for the medicine to make its effect and calm his aching body.

 _How pathetic_ , he thought as he remembered the reasons that had led him to be in that situation, run over by a car in his coffee break. He cursed himself for being so stupid or so reckless as to cross the street totally distracted. In his defense, the events of the past few months had kept his mind so busy that he found it difficult to concentrate even on the simplest task.

Now he would have to stay in this damn hospital all night when the only thing he longed for was to get home, to the arms of his wife. At that moment, as if somehow she had been summoned, the curtain opened giving way to Mary Margaret.

"Oh my god, David." His wife hurried to move beside him, the expression on her face a mixture of worry and relief. "You scared the hell out of me! Don't you dare do it again, you hear me?"

"I'm fine, sweetheart." He croaked, feeling his throat dry.

"You got a concussion." She replied as she gently stroked his forehead. His eyes closed instinctively at her touch, as his body began to relax. He still felt the throbbing pain in his head and a slight dizziness, but the mere presence of his wife at his side managed to alleviate some of his discomforts.

“What happened? "She muttered, holding his left hand in hers.

"I got distracted when crossing the street." He admitted without daring to look at his wife, sensing her disapproving expression. "I'm fine, just a blow to the head." He insisted.

They remained silent for a few seconds, just enjoying each other's company while he felt his eyelids grow heavier.

"She's here, David."

 _Emma_... He didn't even have to look at Mary Margaret to know that she was smiling. His heart fluttered furiously at the thought of Emma caring enough for him to go to the hospital.

"We talked, instead of her avoiding me. She listened to me and even smiled. I think she's starting to accept us." This time David did look at his wife, the glimmer of hope in her green eyes so intense that it caused a warm feeling to run through his veins.

"Do you think she'll come... you know, to see me?" David could not prevent a wave of anticipation washing over him.

"I hope so. Do you want me to go look for them? She's still with Killian in the waiting room."

He nodded. "How is Killian?" Even in this situation, the well-being of Killian, and of all his loved ones in general, would always be his priority. Despite his mind puffing from the impact, he supposed that his friend would not have taken the news very well. He only hoped that at least he had found the comfort he needed in his daughter's arms.

"He's fine. I know him well, I know he was probably dying inside, but he tried to stay strong, I guess for me and for Emma. It's amazing how far he's come, David, how he's growing up." Mary Margaret’s voice came full of affection towards Killian.

She was right, despite all the suffering he had gone through, it seemed that at last, he was rising from the ashes, revealing the honorable man he was always meant to be. He could not be more proud of him. "She’s been his savior."

"Well, I prefer to think that the two managed to save each other. She seems so happy with him..." A tug of some unease settled in the pit of his stomach at the thought that their happiness might have been truncated by their fault, but he quickly forced himself to swallow those feelings. What mattered now was that they were together and that he was about to see them.

"These medicines are beginning to make their effect. Would you mind if... I'd like to see them." He muttered, feeling an extreme weariness overtake him and his mind began to cloud.

"Of course, I'm going to get our kids. I'll see you later." Mary Margaret offered him an affectionate smile before placing a tender kiss on his forehead and leaving the bay, closing the curtain behind her.

The headache was still latent, but a feeling of numbness, of heavy limbs, spread through his body, making it harder to keep himself awake. Just as he was about to surrender to sleep, the curtain opened again.

Despite the pain, a soft smile tugged at his lips as he saw Emma and Killian holding hands and approaching his bed. The lines of concern were still evident on his friend's face, but the corners of his lips rose when his eyes fell on him. Emma, on the other hand, wore a cautious expression. He was aware that the situation she was in couldn’t have to be easy, that's why he valued her effort even more.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" To his surprise, it was Emma who spoke first, her lips drawing a tentative smile.

"I feel like I've been hit by a car." Her smile turned into a grin as Killian raised his eyes to the ceiling at his bad joke. "I've been better, but I'll survive."

"You better, mate." Killian raised one eyebrow in warning. "You had us very worried for a while."

"I know, and I'm sorry I made you go through this, but I'm really fine now, quite exhausted, and a little sore, but that's it. I don’t know why I have to stay in this damn hospital all night." He huffed.

"Because you got a concussion." Emma and Killian replied in unison, causing a laugh to bubble up in the back of his throat. The sound turned soon into a kind of a whimper, his aching body accusing the effort.

"You should rest, mate." Killian approached him, giving him an affectionate squeeze on his good shoulder. "You will be at home tomorrow but in the meantime, I will try to convince Mary Margaret to go and get some rest, and that I will stay tonight with you, but I'm afraid it will be a difficult task."

"It will be an impossible task, don't even try." He said so quietly that he doubted that his voice had been heard, his eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. "Also, I don't need anyone to stay with me, that chair doesn't seem exactly comfortable and I'm really fine." He made one last weak and failed attempt. Both his wife and Killian could be very stubborn when they set out to do something and he felt too weak to keep insisting.

"You and I know there's no way in hell that's happening, Dave."

"Try to get some sleep, you'll find yourself better tomorrow." Emma's gentle voice made the clouds that were taking over his brain slow their progress.

"Emma..." He raised his left hand slightly, as if he wanted to reach her, reluctant to let her go so soon. "Thank you so much for coming, you don't know how much I value this kind gesture."

When her hand held his, giving it a gentle squeeze, he wasn't sure if he had already fallen asleep and was dreaming. Dream or reality, a feeling of deja-vu seized him while a flash of that distant day in this very place jumped to his memory, a swell of emotion rising in his chest. "You did the same thing the first time we met, your tiny little hand clung to my finger that day..." He whispered. The last thing he saw before his eyes finally closed was a watery, intense gaze through the prettiest green eyes he'd ever seen in his life.

* * *

 

###  **Emma Swan. Storybrooke - May 9, 2018**

Her heart beat frantically in her chest as they finally made their way back to the waiting room. Both the previous confession from Mary Margaret and David’s last words before falling asleep had caused a strange sensation to spread through her body, a mixture of confusion and a desire to know more.

"Are you okay, love?" Killian asked, as he pulled her to his side, a protective arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah, a little overwhelmed with everything that's happening, I guess." She admitted through a weak smile.

They didn't have much more time to talk as Mary Margaret came out to meet them as soon as she saw them arrive in the waiting room, asking them about David's condition.

Killian and his friend talked for a while, he trying to convince her to go home to sleep since he was more rested for having had the day off. She, of course, refused any attempt, crossing her arms over her chest and pursing her lips.

"I'm not leaving, Killian, and that's final!" She stated, thrusting her chin upward.

"Fine." Killian growled, throwing his arms in the air. "But I'm not going either, I'll sleep here, in the bloody waiting room."

"Oh, no, you won't."

"I can assure you that I will." Killian challenged, causing Mary Margaret to roll her eyes. "I'm going to walk Emma to her car and I'll come back here."

Emma watched the scene between the two friends as she tried to hold back the smirk that threatened to form on her lips. There was no doubt that despite her seemingly fragile appearance, Mary Margaret was a bit of a spitfire. _Just like me_ , and for the first time, that thought did not scare her at all, quite the contrary.

The mention of her name made Mary Margaret address her, still unwilling to bury the hatchet, apparently. "This boyfriend of yours is so stubborn... I'm afraid you'll sleep alone tonight, honey." Although she was still slightly frowning, her expression softened as she talked to her.

"I'll manage." she mumbled, looking down at her feet. Maybe Mary Margaret hadn't realized the meaning of her words, but Emma did. Her cheeks began to burn at the thought of talking to her mother about sleeping with a guy. _Gods_! What had her life become in the last hours? From completely ignoring the existence of her parents to now, where she felt like a kind of teenager in front of them...

Killian came to her rescue then, wrapping her waist, and gently pulling her toward the exit. Before leaving, Mary Margaret said goodbye to her warmly but keeping her distance, which she appreciated. She was not ready yet for more physical contact.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, Emma lost in thought as tiredness took over her. This perpetual roller coaster of emotions was taking its toll, clearly. After more than two months sleeping in Killian's arms, the idea of returning to her solitary apartment wasn't appealing at all. But she understood him and respected his decision.

Once they arrived at the place where her car was parked, she stopped, facing him. "Just for the record, had you been in David's place, I would have stayed with you too."

A shadow crossed his face darkening his features while he clutched his grip on her waist, pulling her even closer. "I can't even imagine if you were the one who..." He trailed off and suddenly his lips were on hers offering her a searing and demanding kiss, cupping her face with both his hand and his prosthesis. She barely had time to react, returning the kiss with earnest when he pulled away almost as abruptly as he began, resting his forehead with hers.

"It's not that I'm complaining..." She muttered as she tried to catch her breath... "But what's that all about?"

Killian parted enough for his gaze to bore into hers, still holding her face, his thumb brushing her cheek lightly. "I love you, Emma. Gods! I love you much."

Her mouth fell open as she tried to process his words, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering and her heart thudding in her chest.

"You're a bloody wonder, love, and I know you needed to be very brave and compassionate and kind to come here in spite of everything." He paused, while running his tongue across his lips in a movement too distracting. "Maybe it's too soon, or maybe not, but... with everything that has happened with David... I wasn't able to hold back these words for any longer, so I'll understand if you aren't ready yet..."

"I love you too." Emma assured him by cutting off his rambling. After a few seconds in which he was speechless, gazing at her in awe, his face split into a giant grin as a special glow appeared in his eyes, making them impossibly blue. This time, it was she who captured his lips, reluctant to part just yet.

Only after someone yelled at them to get a room did they separated. "I'll miss you in my bed tonight." She mumbled against his lips before pulling away and finally getting into the car.

She left him there, in the middle of the parking lot, gaping, a wrecked expression on his face, while her chest swelled with pride at being aware that she and only she was the cause of his state.

While driving to her apartment, she thought that sooner or later she would finally have to face her past and decide what future she wanted to follow, whether she wanted to give her family a chance or if, on the contrary, their relationship was damaged beyond of reparation despite the advances of these last days.

She shook her head, causing those thoughts to vanish, at least for a while. She would have time to think about them later. For the moment, she indulged herself in the fact that she had taken a step forward in her relationship with Killian, finally uttering the words that had been bubbling inside her until then. She felt her chest bursting with happiness. And that was just the beginning. From now on, the sky was the limit.

* * *

**_Letters to Emma from her father, 1989-2018_ **

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Emma stared at the box she had placed in front of her, not daring to open it, for fear of what she might find inside.

Three days had passed since David's accident and she hadn't yet decided what to do with the Nolans. Her heart screamed that both she and they deserved an opportunity. She felt in the depths of her soul the longing to be part of a family, to begin to build a future together. Her mind, however, remained cold. If she didn't give them a chance she wouldn't risk getting hurt along the way.

There was something she was sure of though. It was fair to get all the information to be able to decide. And that meant gathering enough courage to read David's letters. She may not owe them anything else, but she at least did owe them that.

She was waiting for Killian to arrive to read the letters together. Maybe it wasn't the most appropriate decision, maybe she was violating some rule of intimacy by showing another person the contents of a letter written just for her, but there was no way in hell she could do it alone. And besides, Killian was one of those affected in this whole story, wasn't he?

Her heart skipped a beat as she heard the clink of keys against the lock, both from the fact that Killian now had a spare key to her apartment but also it meant that the inevitable was about to happen. She was going to immerse herself in her past. She just hoped that Killian's protective arms would act as a lifeline.

"Emma, are you home?" Killian's voice came from the hall.

"Over here." She called, hoping her voice wasn't shaking.

Killian stopped short when he opened the door and entered the room, his gaze traveling from the box to her face, a small wrinkle of confusion adorning his forehead.

"I want to do it, I want to read them, but I can't do it alone. So... would you mind joining me, please?" She asked not bothering to hide the hint of pleading in her voice as her right shoulder tensed up around her hear and her lips drew a small pout.

Killian continued looking at her for a few seconds, letting out a deep exhale. "I'm not sure I should intervene in this, love. It's something between you and your parents."

"It wouldn't be an intervention, just moral support." She insisted while holding her breath. A thought crossed her mind then, causing her determination to falter. She had no idea of the content of those letters but what if Killian also appeared in them? What if reading the letters not only meant traveling to her past but also to his? She needed to abort the mission right now.

She got up suddenly, grabbing the box with the intention of returning it to its hiding place, feeling like her heart dropped into her stomach. "You're right, this is a bad idea. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking straight." She mumbled, a wave of shame washing over her at the thought that she had been so self-centered that she had forgotten how others could feel.

Killian was at her side in a split second, slowing her progress. "Easy, Swan. What the hell are you doing?"

She swallowed hard, feeling her hands burning from the contact with the box as she deliberately avoided Killian's gaze. "It's a bad idea." She repeated weakly.

"Emma, love, talk to me, please." He muttered, as he gently pushed her chin forcing her to raise her head and look him in the eye.

A deep sigh escaped her lips as she squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds. The look he gave her when she finally opened them again was filled with a mixture of concern and devotion. "These letters may contain not only part of my past, or rather the absence of my past, but also of yours. I wouldn't want your wounds reopened because of me, Killian."

Letting out a heavy breath, he ran his hand over his scruff. "We're in this together, Swan, or don't you remember agreeing to walk together until we reach the light at the end of the tunnel?" The way he was using her own words to cheer her up caused a warm sensation to run through her whole body, the memory of that day bringing a faint smile to her lips.

His lips also drew a small smile in encouragement, his eyes never leaving hers. "These bloody letters may make us fall into a dark hole, but I'm sure we're going to get out of there hopefully having left behind some of our burdens."

There was so much honesty and determination both in his speech and in his expression that she had no choice but to trust him. "Okay, let's do this." She breathed out.

Killian's smile widened as he took the box from her hands and placed it back on the bed. Next, he took off his shoes and sat with his back against the headboard, leaving a gap for her between his spread legs. "Come here, love." He waved his hand inviting her to come closer.

The moment she climbed onto the bed, emulating her previous position, Killian wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her right shoulder in a position that allowed him to read as she did.

Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly, while closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she finally made up her mind and took the lid off the box, holding her breath. There were several objects inside, including a pile of letters tied with a string, but she focused first on the handwritten note that was on top, following the instructions: _Read this note first._

The note was attached to a sheet of paper folded in half. With trembling fingers, she unfolded the paper and found what appeared to be the first letter, also handwritten. She felt Killian's arms tighten slightly around her waist as if encouraging her to read. And that she did.

_My dearest Emma,_

_If you have come this far it's because somehow you have decided to give us an opportunity to offer you the explanations you deserve even though it’s through this way. I could not be more grateful for that, but let me inform you first about what you will find inside this box. I wrote you a letter every day on your birthday and some more, baring my soul in them and expressing my wish that someday we could meet you. Our wishes have come true, finally. I just hope it was not too late._

_There is also a series of small objects, simple trinkets that shouldn't even be considered gifts, but we couldn't resist acquiring them as soon as our eyes fell on them, because for some reason, they made us think of you. But I will offer the explanation to each of the objects later. First things first. Let me tell you a short tale before you start reading the letters._

Emma ignored David's suggestion and, before continuing, reached into the box, looking for those non-gifts, while her heart constricted in her chest.

There was a small rag doll with golden hair and green eyes, dressed as a kind of princess from a fairy tale. Emma also found a small glass figure carved in the shape of a unicorn. And an old storybook that included an illustration of The Ugly Duckling story on the cover. _The irony,_ Emma thought as the corners of her lips lifted slightly. From that angle, she couldn't see Killian, but the way his scruff tickled the exposed skin of her neck made her think he was smiling too.

And finally, there was the camera. It was one of those disposable devices and Emma doubted if it would even still work, but the very thought that her parents had believed she would like it caused her stomach to flutter as she blinked a couple of times, holding back tears.

If just by observing those objects she was about to burst into tears, Emma wondered what would become of her when she immersed herself in the contents of the letters.

As if he sensed her uneasiness, Killian whispered in her ear. "You can do it, love."

Nodding almost imperceptibly, Emma steeled herself and grabbed back the first letter, ready to read the short tale her father had written for her.

 _Once upon a time a boy and a girl fell hopelessly in love when they were still young and innocent._  
  
_They longed to build a life together, a promising future awaited them, but on the way to achieving their dreams, they must be separated for a while._  
  
_When the boy left, he did it with endless promises that he trusted to fulfill. But what neither of them knew was that the product of their love had begun to grow inside her._  
  
_Unfortunately, with his departure, the girl was left alone and unprotected, so the evil stepmother took advantage of her vulnerability to spread her claws and try to destroy the happiness that she would never get._  
  
_The girl, sad and desperate, fell into her stepmother's trap, believing that she really would not be able to offer her daughter her best chance, thinking that she too could not destroy her boyfriend's promising future by burdening him with a responsibility he did not have requested._  
  
_But luck, or fate, made the boy return to the town with enough time to meet his daughter and also to say goodbye to her, the tiny baby girl carrying part of his heart with her while he watched helplessly how she was taken away - perhaps forever - without him having the chance to hold her in his arms for even a few seconds._  
_  
And this is where you appear, my dear daughter._  

_This tale hasn't yet reached the end, and that is why I'm hoping against hope that we will be able to write our happily ever after together._

Dropping the paper, Emma pressed her lips together as she leaned her back against Killian's chest, breathing hard and unable to prevent a tear that slid down her cheek.

Although David had not offered details, the few written touches did serve to paint the scenario of a young girl alone and manipulated by her stepmother. She could now understand the reasons and although that would not mean that the pain of abandonment would ease, at least it did allow her to feel lighter. Her mother had not given her up for adoption because she thought she wasn't enough, but because she believed that she wasn't going to be able to give her her best chance.

She kept her eyes closed for a few seconds as she tried to calm her agitated breathing with the help of Killian, who alternated light kisses, barely a brush of his lips on the skin of the curve of her neck, with soothing words whispered in her ear.

Just when she seemed to have calmed down enough, the image of the stepmother came to her memory. Emma straightened her back as she turned her head slightly looking for Killian's eyes. "Mary Margaret's stepmother... she was Regina's mother, wasn't she?"

Killian nodded, pressing his lips together. "Aye, she was the one who took care of Mary Margaret when her father passed away, even though they had already divorced at the time."

“Regina knew it, didn't she? She was there when all this happened, right?" She clenched her jaw as he nodded again, increasing her decision to quit that job as soon as possible.

The reading of the first letter seemed to pave the way to the following since, once recovered, Emma grabbed the pile of letters and untied the string that held them together, leaving them in her lap and holding the first one, dated October 1990, the day of her first birthday.

The first letters were not an easy journey, as she had already anticipated. A bittersweet sensation settled in the pit of her stomach as she (they) read along.

There were smiles when David narrated some of his experiences in Storybrooke with Mary Margaret and how the town seemed not to have changed in the least almost thirty years later.

She shed more tears, first for the death of Ruth, David's mother —her grandmother— and for the reasons behind their decision to leave the town and try a new beginning on the other side of the ocean, the burden of memories too heavy for them.

She also cried for herself since, while David clung to the hope that she would be happy with a family that loved her, the reality had been very different. Each of his words acted like a dart to her already broken heart because, if they hadn't had that certainty, maybe they could have fought for her, maybe... Emma shook her head, it wouldn't do her any good to lament about what could have been. That wouldn't make the past change. Now she had no choice but to look ahead.

The letter in which she turned ten was also the one that brought Killian on stage. She noticed how his body tensed, as his arms tightened even more around her waist when his written name appeared for the first time.

From there, they continued the trip together, holding each other while they faced their ghosts of the past in the best possible way.

The feeling of jealousy and envy was there, latent, ready to strike from time to time in the form of a reminder that they had been there for him, sharing happy experiences, acting as a family, unconventional, but a family after all, while she had had to keep fighting and facing new abandonments, new disappointments, new rejections.

The letter that almost ended up breaking her was the one David had written a few months after she had turned eighteen. She already knew in advance that even though David's birthday letter had held the promise that they would come looking for her now that she had become an adult, they never would. But having the written confirmation that they had deliberately chosen Killian instead of opting for the tiny possibility of being able to recover their own daughter caused a pain almost impossible to bear.

Because irony had wanted that, while it was true that Killian had been going through the most traumatic moment of his life with the loss of his brother, she had also gone through hell at that time, locked in prison, alone and vulnerable after being once again abandoned and betrayed in the vilest way possible.

She had to stop reading, tears so plentiful that her vision blurred. She also noticed moisture at the height of her shoulder, where Killian was resting his head. That and the slight tremor of his body against hers were indicative enough that Killian was also crying.

Emma's heart ached for him, because he had been just another victim of the vicissitudes of life. She turned her head again, searching his eyes. The expression she found was so laden with guilt and regret that she could do nothing but turn around and straddle his lap, facing him, while cupping his face with both hands.

"Hey, Killian, look at me." She mumbled as he stroked his hair softly.

"I'm so sorry, Emma." He managed to say through a broken voice.

"It's not your fault, Killian, I mean it." Emma tried to convey both with her voice and her eyes, her raws feelings. "I'm not going to deny that it hurts like hell, that that twinge of pain has increased, but deep down, I'm glad they were there for you. If it hadn't been for them..." Her voice trailed off while she swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. She couldn’t deny the obvious, if David and Mary Margaret hadn’t been there to support him he might never have recovered.

Killian stared at her for a few seconds until he pulled her toward him, burying his head in her chest as they both melted into a tight embrace, their hearts beating in unison as they both found comfort in each other's arms.

"David was right," Killian muttered, pulling away a little to look into her eyes. "Reading about Liam is like opening the wound again..." his lips drew a small smile, a halo of melancholy reflected on his face, "... but with you by my side, I feel stronger, Emma."

"David was wrong about something though." Before continuing, Emma bit her lower lip, hesitant about expressing aloud the thought that had crossed her mind.

Killian tilted his head slightly, looking at her intently. "About what?"

"About Liam. It's true that I didn't know him personally, but I do feel like I've known him. He's alive in these stories, Killian." Emma pointed to the letters they had just read, scattered on her bed. "And he is alive here." She laid her hand on Killian's chest, at the level of his heart. "And here." Then she brought her hand to his forehead. "And on all those photo albums you have in your apartment."

He closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his forehead on hers. "Emma..." The way he pronounced her name, in a reverent sigh, sent a chill down her spine but she needed to continue with what she had started.

"I'm glad that both you and David have allowed me to get to know him through your memories." Killian shortened the distance between them, his soft, warm lips brushing hers and then hugging her again.

They remained in that position for what seemed like hours. It wasn't that she complained, she had learned that being in Killian's arms doing nothing, simply enjoying his warmth and the security he offered, had become one of her little pleasures. But Emma was beginning to fear that maybe the time to finish reading had passed. He soon pulled her out of her uncertainty, to her pleasant surprise.

"I think we still have a few cards left, Swan. Shall we?"

"Are you sure?"

Before answering, he took a deep breath. "Aye, let's go with it."

They didn't return to their original position though. Emma sat on his lap, but with her legs stretched out on the bed. She leaned on her side against Killian's chest, holding the letters at the right angle so he could read too as he wrapped both arms around her waist.

Together they resumed the journey through Killian's memories as they read David's letters. This last stage of the trip was perhaps the most painful, at least for Killian, since he had to relive not only the loss of Milah and the traumatic experience of the impact that took away his hand and almost his future, but they also discovered the torment that David had suffered all these years, trying to be the rock that his loved ones needed when he was dying inside.

The last letter was dated only a few months earlier, on the day of her last birthday, when she had received the gift that would change her life forever. David had mentioned Killian in that letter, as a premonition, anticipating that their paths would cross. What no one could have imagined at that time was the depth of feelings that would develop between them after that first encounter.

There was something implicit in the contents of the letters, something she hoped Killian would have noticed, too. The relationship David and Mary Margaret had with Killian was not based on the responsibility they felt towards him. They had loved Killian throughout those years and they were still loving him now. She could understand where those unfounded concerns of Killian came from, but maybe it was time to leave behind any vestige related to that fear.

She really was grateful that they had the opportunity to dedicate that love to at least one of them. "They love you, you know that, right?" She mumbled as her fingers drew delicate patterns on Killian's chest.

"I do. I do know it now. They love you too, Swan, even though they have not had the chance to prove it to you until now, but if you let them..." He paused for a few seconds as if deciding whether to continue or not. "I'm sorry, it's just up to you to give them a chance or not, but at least I hope that reading the letters has helped you understand them better."

The wound was still fresh. Maybe it had stopped bleeding but the edges were still tender. Reading the letters was meant to apply a bandage on that wound, and now she only hoped it would be enough for it to finish healing.

Still, her heart had begun to flutter in anticipation, as a wave of longing took hold of her. She also wanted to be part of future letters, she deserved to experience what it meant to be part of a family and if she had to forgive them and trust that the bandage was enough, so be it.

"I'm tired of fighting, of protecting my heart, Killian." She admitted, raising her head as she searched his gaze. "Even though I may need your help. I'm not an expert on this family thing, you know."

The smile he gave her had the ability to illuminate the entire bedroom. "You just have to trust me, Swan."

"I do." She returned a smile that she hoped matched his, before laying her head back on his chest.

Maybe it was the rhythmic beating of his heart against her ear or the soft sway of her body in his arms, whatever it was, Emma felt her eyelids grow heavier as a sense of drowsiness overtook her. Before surrendering to sleep, she clung to the last thought, like a premonition, that crossed her mind. A little girl, with green eyes and dark hair, lay in her crib while holding in her arms an old rag doll dressed like a princess from a fairytale.

* * *

 

When Emma woke up a little later, she was alone in bed, a thin blanket covering her body. She sat up confused, looking around through her narrowed eyes as she tried to get rid of the vestiges of sleep. There was no sign of the letters on the bed, but the box containing them had been placed right at the foot, on Killian's side. A handwritten note that had not been there before was stuck on the lid of the box.

Emma reached out a hand to get the note, finding a text written in Killian's cursive handwriting.

_I hope you have achieved the restful sleep that you deserved after experiencing so many emotions. I would have stayed with you, watching over your dreams, but I needed to do something first. I needed to express my feelings towards my (our, I hope) family. I will return to you soon. I love you, yours, Killian._

She held the note against her chest and dropped her head back onto the pillow, thinking that maybe the time had come to finally pay a visit to her family.

* * *

 

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke - May 12, 2018**

The moment the door opened and he found Mary Margaret on the other side, Killian pounced on her, wrapping her in a bear hug. She remained still at first, unable to react, but then returned the hug in earnest. They continued that way for a few seconds, Killian letting himself be carried away by the sensation of calm that always emanated from his friend while the swirl of feelings dancing inside him became more intense.

The letters had been a revelation for him, so he didn’t mind to have gone through that tortuous path of reliving his past if it meant he finally managed to see that light at the end of the tunnel, at least as regards his relationship with his friends.

"Killian, you're scaring me, what's going on?" Only Mary Margaret's voice, full of worry, got him separated from her. David chose that moment to appear from the kitchen, a cloth over his left shoulder.

His brow furrowed as his gaze traveled from Killian to his wife and back. "What’s happening?”

Something caught Killian's attention, making him forget for a moment the reason for his visit. "Where's your sling, mate?" His gaze shifted to the cloth. "Don't tell me you're cooking... You should rest, Dave." He scolded him while shaking his head, unable to believe that his friend was so careless about his health.

David rolled his eyes as Mary Margaret snorted at his side. "Believe me, I've tried Killian, but this man can be incorrigible at times."

"I'm fine." David snapped defensively. "Actually, being stuck here at home helplessly is driving me crazy." He massaged his temples before continuing. "So I'll go back to work tomorrow."

"No, you won't." Mary Margaret raised a finger in warning.

"But..."

"It's Sunday." Killian interrupted, getting both of them to turn their heads towards him. As much as he enjoyed these little domestic fights, since they reminded him of home, he had come for a specific purpose. "Tomorrow is Sunday, so I'm afraid you'll still have to spend another day here, mate." He smirked at him while wagging his eyebrows.

"You aren't helping, Killian." He huffed in annoyance.

"Maybe not, but I'm sure that when you know why I'm here you'll have a reason to enjoy a quiet Sunday at home."

"Are you sure everything is fine?" Mary Margaret asked as she reached out her hand to give him an affectionate squeeze on his biceps.

"Aye, everything is fine." His stomach tightened into knots, but he forced himself to swallow any hesitation he might feel. "Emma and I... she asked me to read the letters with her. We did it this afternoon."

David's eyes widened as Mary Margaret covered her mouth with one hand, both looking at him intently, as if inviting him to continue.

"Maybe I shouldn't have done it, because they're letters that you wrote exclusively to her, but she asked me and..."

"I'm glad you did it, Killian." David cut him off while nodding. "I'm glad you were with her through it."

"I'm not going to speak for her, she'll be the one to do it when she feels ready, but..." His voice trailed off as he felt a wave of emotion creeping up his throat. He swallowed again, hoping to keep his voice stable enough. "It's been painful to relive those moments, but thanks to those letters I've realized something that maybe I should have noticed before."

"Oh, Killian." Mary Margaret squeezed his arm affectionately again, while it was evident that she was making great efforts to maintain her composure.

"You guys have always been with me, in good times, as well as in not so good ones, as in my incursions to hell. I will never be able to thank you enough for letting me be part of your family, for having welcomed me and made me feel loved even though I wasn't able to prove it or to reciprocate it to you then."

"Of course you are part of our family, Killian." It was all David said before wrapping him in a tight hug, charged with emotion to which Mary Margaret joined a few seconds later.

They remained there, embraced for a while, as Killian felt all the power of memories dancing around them. Emma was right, Liam would always be part of this family, he would stay alive forever in their hearts.

A sudden knock on the door interrupted the moment. His heart skipped a beat in anticipation, trusting that his Swan had already woken up and gained enough determination to follow in his footsteps.

This time, it was David who opened the door. Indeed, Emma was there. His chest swelled with pride as he saw that his beautiful, brave and talented Emma was finally ready to take the step that would bring her back into the arms of her family.

"Emma! What a pleasant surprise." David welcomed her, unable to hide the joy in his voice. "Come in, come in." He stepped aside, allowing Emma to enter the living room.

"Hey, guys." She greeted them, holding a tight smile as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Her eyes then traveled to David's right arm as her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Where's your sling?"

"Oh my God." He heard Mary Margaret muttering at his side as he kept his lips pressed together in an attempt to hold back a chuckle.

"Maybe he will listen to his daughter now." Killian leaned down to whisper in his friend's ear causing her eyes to go wide as she clung to his arm and gave him a pleading look. He nodded subtly and then turned back to Emma.

"Well..." David mumbled as he ran his hand down his chin.

Mary Margaret seemed to take pity on her husband as she ran to David's side, hooking her arm in his good one and giving Emma a warm look. "I'm glad you're here. Can I offer you a drink?"

Emma shook her head as she looked in Killian's direction briefly. He nodded quietly, encouraging her to continue. "No, not for the moment at least. I... look, this is hard for me so I'm going to drop everything now, okay?"

Everyone remained silent looking at Emma carefully. Before continuing, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "I suppose Killian has already told you, but we've read the letters this afternoon - all of them, which means a lot, but anyway, I just wanted to tell you that you don't need to write me any more letters... I, well, I'm here," Emma shrugged her shoulders as her lips drew a half smile, "so we can just, talk in person..." Killian was dying to be by her side, to support her at this moment, but he was also aware that it was something she had to do for herself.

"You mean birthdays and other events like in the letters?" David asked tentatively.

Emma shook her head while licking her lips. "No, I mean that, if you allow me, I'd like to be part of all this." She waved her hand, encompassing everything around her.

"Oh Emma." Mary Margaret muttered as she reached out to hold Emma's hand. "Of course, you've always been part of this family, although we haven't been able to prove it to you until now."

"Thank you so much, sweetheart, for giving us this opportunity to do things right with you for once." The raw emotion was evident in both the voice and the expression of David. He himself felt a warm feeling spread to his heart as he witnessed how the three most important people in his life finally reunited forever.

"Can I... can I hold you?" Mary Margaret offered in a soft voice. Emma blinked a couple of times, but was unable to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks. She could only nod in response to her mother's request.

Something pulled on Killian the moment Emma's parents finally embraced their daughter, no lies, no secrets between them anymore, just the sincere embrace of three people who had been separated for too long.

His fingers began to tingle with the need to immortalize the moment and make it eternal. They deserved it. In the absence of his camera, he took the phone out of his pocket, and shot a few pictures quickly and then he took it more calmly, focusing on capturing the emotion, the endless feelings that were reflected in the faces of his friends and his girlfriend.

David looked at him with a frown, but also with a smile on his lips. "Stop thinking about photography for a moment and come here to join your family." He happily obliged, at least in part, since, before joining the first — he hoped— of many family hugs he reached out as he held the phone in his hand and then shot.

While he was immersed in the embrace, surrounded by the love of his life and the people who had been his family for twenty years, he made a mental note to include that photo in a privileged place in the photo album that Emma had given him for his birthday, willing, more than ever, to keep filling that album of memories in the form of images. The memories of his family. The memories of the new life that awaited them all. Together.

**_TheLadySwan_** _Life is composed of small pieces of a puzzle that fit together little by little. Sometimes the last piece takes time to appear, or it's difficult to fit at the beginning, but when it finally does and you are able to observe the complete picture, you feel a sense of fulfillment and the certainty that, no matter what awaits us in the future, no matter if at some point the pieces of the puzzle are separated again, we will always find a way to unite them._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end, almost...
> 
> What to expect from the epilogue? I hope you all enjoy the last stage of this journey celebrating Emma's new birthday... and more...
> 
> Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We’re celebrating Emma’s new birthday… and more…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I can’t believe that we have reached the last stage of this journey, but yes, this is the final chapter. I’d like to express my gratitude one last time to all of you for your comments, kudos, likes, reviews and reblogs. Thank you so so much.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to my beta, Amy, for doing her magic and to my artist, Kate. Don't forget to visit her blog and enjoy her amazing art. There are two arts accompanying this chapter, the first one includes a moment that happens at the beginning. Regarding the second one, I'm putting it at the end, for reasons. That art is special for me because I made a request to Kate and she made her magic in no time and create that amazing edit. Thank you so much.
> 
> Sara, thank you for everything.

# EPILOGUE

###  **Emma Swan. Storybrooke - October 23, 2018**

Even though Killian was waiting for her in the living room, Emma took her time to study her reflection in the bathroom mirror. On the day of her twenty-ninth birthday, she looked exactly like the day before.

 _Well, that's not entirely true_ , she thought as she pursed her lips as if to throw a kiss. Since today was her special day, she had pushed herself with her physical appearance, having every intention of leaving her boyfriend bewitched the moment she made her entrance.

Her eyes seemed bigger and the green color brighter thanks to the discreet dusting of eyeshadow that she had applied and just the right amount of mascara. Her lips were an invitation to be kissed and her hair fell in soft golden waves over one of her shoulders, just the way he liked.

True, it was her birthday, she should be the one who received special attention. Killian also didn't need any push to, well, satisfy her in every way, but she enjoyed this game of seduction and already knew in advance that her boyfriend was going to spend the whole evening thinking about the best way to get rid of that dress and have his way with her. If she played her cards well, that might happen even earlier than expected.

Indeed, the chosen dress was perfect for her plans, she checked as she turned to catch the different angles through the mirror. Her attire choice had been a flowing draped creamy dress accented with a gemstone belt. There was also another small detail, a zipper running down the back of the dress so she might need help to finish dressing. After one last look at her reflection, her lips drew a wicked smirk and then she went in search of her improvised assistant.

Killian did not disappoint her. The moment she appeared in the living room, walking toward him while her hips swayed slightly, his eyes locked on her, following her every move. When she got to where he was, she turned around, showing her bare back as she cast a suggestive glance over her shoulder. "I may need some help."

"Bloody hell, Swan. We should be leaving in fifteen minutes." He growled, his warm breath caressing the skin of the back of her neck and sending a chill down her spine.

"Where's the rush? It's my day today. I'm allowed to be late." She purred and then bit her lower lip, feeling the first touch —and she hoped not the last one— of his fingers on her bare back.

An hour later and after being thoroughly satisfied, they finally left his (their) apartment, both wearing the same sated smiles and flushed cheeks.

Their destiny was uncertain, at least for her. The only thing Killian had revealed to her was that they were going out of town to get her birthday present but that, evidently, they would be back in time for the party at Granny's in her honor. Still, on the drive to that unknown destination, she insisted, since she didn't feel particularly comfortable when things were not under her control, even for a good reason.

 " _Where are we going?”_

_"Out of town, Swan.”_

_(Rolling eyes)_

_“Is my gift something physical?”_

_“You'll discover it shortly, love.”_

_(Really?)_

_“When we arrive? (Yes, I know, I'm behaving like a little girl, but I don't care)”_

_“Patience is a virtue, just relax and enjoy the ride.”_

_(_ _Double rolling eyes)_

So she had no choice but to _‘enjoy the ride’_ by looking out the window and trying to figure out from the different directions they took where they would go. To be honest, she also glanced at Killian from time to time who was exuding total confidence driving his new adapted vehicle as if he had been doing it all his life instead of just for the past three months.

She didn't stop admiring the ease with which Killian had ended up accepting his prosthesis and its implications, using the substitute of his hand to his advantage instead of making it an inconvenience. Still, the road to that level of acceptance had been long and hard — more than two years. Even now, he experienced some rough days, when the frustration of not being able to do something took over him or when the phantom pains of his missing limb paid him an unexpected visit.

Today wasn't one of those days, fortunately, since she couldn't bear to see Killian suffer, whatever the reason. Today his bright smile, his mischievous gaze, and that expression, a mixture of contentment and nervousness —  probably due to her impending surprise— made him irresistible in her eyes.

She supposed that they were going to Boston when they passed the sign with that name and turned onto the road that would take them to the center of the city. Her curiosity grew at times while she wondered what would await them there. When Killian started parking a few minutes later, Emma peered out the window, but nothing rang a bell.

She then looked at Killian, "I don't see anything interesting out there. Where are we supposed to be?" She asked, sounding perhaps a little more grumbling than she felt.

Killian smirked at her after rolling his eyes. "I'm afraid we're going to have to walk a bit. Also, I need to ask you a favor. Can I trust you?"

"It depends..." She tried to hide her true feelings by masking them with a halo of indifference, despite the fact that the damn bastard had managed to capture her interest, leaving her a nervous wreck and beyond excited.

"I need to blindfold you until we get to the place. That or you offer me enough confidence to walk there with your eyes closed. So, what's your choice, Swan?"

"I don't get the need for so much mystery but anyway - eyes closed. You’re not going to ruin my makeup for the second time this morning." She pouted as she felt her cheeks flush, recalling the reasons for the first time.

Killian also seemed to remember since, despite his smug grin, the tips of his ears turned a deep red in a way that made him so freaking adorable. _Gods!_ She loved that man.

"Okay, let's do this." He patted the steering wheel of the car and, just as he was about to open the door to get out of the car, he turned to her, raising an eyebrow in warning. "Don't think I'm taking my eyes off you for a second."

"You and I know that, surprise or not, you aren't able to take your eyes off me." She countered. Two could play this game.

"And you and I both know it's all your fault. You're irresistible, love." Without giving her time to react, Killian leaned toward her and gave her a quick kiss on the lips before turning and getting out of the car.

He was at her side in an instant, opening the door and offering her his hand to help her out. She pressed her lips together holding back a snort. _Always the gentleman._.. "Now, if the lady would be so kind as to close her eyes..." She gave him one last look, letting out a deep sigh before dropping her eyelids. "Trust me, Swan." He whispered in her ear, sending goosebumps down her skin. Next, she felt him draw her to him slightly and wrap his arm around her shoulders. "Let yourself go."

And that she did. Walking blindly, depending on someone else to guide her steps so as not to stumble or simply not to hit any obstacle on the sidewalk, turned out to be a demonstration of absolute trust in her partner. But, although there was always a bit of innate fear, she felt safe, once again, in his arms.

They didn't walk for long. If her sense of direction didn't betray her, they simply went around the corner and stopped a few steps later. "We're almost there, don't open your eyes yet."

When Killian moved away from her, she felt unprotected somehow and very tempted to do just that - open her eyes. She resisted though. Instead, she decided to use the rest of her senses to figure out what was happening around her.

She heard the tinkling of what sounded like keys, mixed with the ambient noise of the street. Then Killian's warm hand entwined with hers as he pulled her subtly. "We're almost there, just a few more steps, love." He whispered again.

Emma let herself be guided, feeling the temperature rise as they entered wherever Killian had taken her. The outside sound was muffled the moment the door closed behind them, giving way to absolute silence.

Killian pulled her once more, making her walk a few steps, her heels echoing broadly on the smooth surface of the floor. That gave her a clue that they were probably in a large room, getting her curiosity and impatience to increase.

"It's alright, Swan. You can open your eyes now." Killian muttered behind her.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking a couple of times until her vision adapted to the new lighting in the room. When her gaze finally settled on what she found in front of her, her mouth fell open on a gasp and her eyes widened. "Holy shit!"

Her gaze traveled throughout the room while she remained in awe, unable to believe what she saw. They were in an exhibition hall. And her image -  several of her images - appeared in all the photographs that hung on the walls.

Her gaze then fell on Killian who remained silent at her side, his brows furrowed slightly, waiting for her reaction. "You did this, didn't you?" She mumbled in a barely audible voice, her hand waving in an attempt to encompass the entire room.

"Aye?" He wrinkled his nose as he closed one eye, as if suddenly feeling insecure.

"Let's see if I understood correctly... You've organized a photo exhibit in a Boston showroom, using the photographs you took of me?"

"That would be a pretty accurate description." He confirmed tentatively while handing her an explanatory brochure.

 _The former British war reporter and award-winning photographer, Killian Jones, reappears after three inactive years to present us a new photographic collection, inspired by his muse,_ **_The Lady Swan_** _, to whom the exhibition owes its name. True to his style, the collection stands out for the elegance and sophistication of simple lines alternated with powerful lighting games. All the photographs are in black and white, endowing the collection with the sobriety that characterizes the artist._

  _The complete collection is for sale. All the benefits obtained will go to different non-governmental organizations that currently collaborate in locations of various active armed conflicts, as well as those working in cities that have suffered war attacks._

"Oh my God." A wave of pride, admiration and pure love seized her, causing her to throw her arms around his boyfriend's neck while kissing him hard. "You're bloody amazing." She mumbled in a poor attempt to imitate his accent as she grabbed the back of his head, sprinkling kisses on his cheeks, lips and any exposed skin of his face.

"I suppose that by your reaction, you approve of it." Killian said between chuckles, while trying to respond to her kissing attack with one of his own.

She pulled back a bit of him looking for her eyes. "Are you kidding me? This is wonderful, and I haven't even seen the photos in detail yet... As long as there are not any inappropriate photos... You know what I mean..." Emma raised an eyebrow suggestively while she bit her lower lip.

"You'll have to verify it for yourself." He winked at her, but then his expression changed to a more serious one. "The exhibition hall doesn't open to the public for another week, but I wanted to show it to you before, both as a birthday present and also to confirm that you give us permission to use your image. Just say the word and we will back out. This is important, Swan. " Killian looked at her intently.

She had no doubt that he would do it, that if she didn't agree, he would take down all the photos on the wall with his own hands. That certainty did nothing but increase her feelings towards him, causing a lump in her throat while she looked at him completely stunned, unable to utter any words.

Killian must have interpreted her silence in the wrong way because before she could reply, he continued with his explanation. "It's reward enough for me to have witnessed your reaction. That’s what I wanted when I set up all this, to show you how wonderful you are as a model and maybe, to believe in myself again. I’m getting it now through your reaction. I don't give a shit about what others may think."

"Others, and with  _others,_ I mean the rest of the world, are going to be impressed with your art. You deserve to have the rest of the world recognize your talent in the same way that I do." She nodded to emphasize her speech. Her reaction managed to pull a smile from his lips, to which she responded with one of her own. "And now, I may need a special guide to tour this exhibition." Emma offered her hand, ready to enjoy her gift in its entirety.

What impressed her the most about Killian's art work, besides his undeniable talent, was that walking around the room observing the photos was like walking through their shared memories. Each image, from the simple photo of her strolling on the beach at sunset to the photo in which only her hands appeared braiding her hair, all had a special meaning for her, and for both as a couple.

But there were four special photos that caused her to gasp when her eyes landed on them. The first photo was chosen from that photo shoot in early May, when she was wearing his black shirt. Yeah, the one with the bare shoulder.

It was amazing how Killian had managed to capture her enigmatic gaze and convey sensuality and delicacy at the same time. He made her look like a powerful and impressive woman. A strange sensation settled in the pit of her stomach when she saw herself in that startling image, as if she did not identify with the person that appeared.

Killian must have sensed the emotion crossing her mind since he circled her waist with his arms from behind as he murmured in her ear. "It seems that I changed my mind and I've decided to share the marvel I've got for a girlfriend with the rest of the world."  
  
"I'm not complaining." She turned her head looking for his lips for a quick kiss. "I look damn good there. I don't know how you did it."  
  
"It's all your merit, Swan."  
  
"Sure." She rolled her eyes as she continued walking.

The next photo pulled her lips into a smile for both the image itself and the memory behind it. Killian had managed to capture a close-up of one of her eyes and a tear that had begun to slide down her cheek. A new wave of admiration washed over her since he had captured the moment, pausing the tear eternally on its way down. And even though the photo was black and white, the intense brightness of her gaze was evident.

What people wouldn't know was the light source or that she wasn't crying with sadness - well, maybe yes, or, whatever... They had watched _Titanic_ together for the first time a couple of months ago and Killian had made fun of her from the very beginning since she had been trying to hold back tears throughout the film. With the inevitable death of Jack, she hadn't been able to help it anymore and a furtive tear had finally escaped. Killian had decided at that precise moment to grab his camera, of course. And now, they were seeing the result right here.

Approaching the next photo, the one that occupied a privileged place in the room for obvious reasons, she screamed, literally. "Oh my God!"

The dimensions of the photo were somewhat larger than the others, which made it stand out even more. Emma’s image stood in the center of the picture with her back to the camera, submerged up to her waist in a lake. She wore a white dress and over it, a kind of light coat of the same color, adorned with fake feathers. She had her arms raised on either side of her body at shoulder height, the wide sleeves of her cloak creating the effect of wings in the air. Her hair was pulled up in a high bun and her head was slightly tilted upwards, her neck stretched out, her elegant posture emulating a swan. The light at that hour of the day fell over her in such a way that it seemed that a luminous halo surrounded her. The image was hypnotic and powerful and perfect. And it was her boyfriend's artwork.

But the best of all was the story behind that picture. They had found the cloak while walking through an antique market one summer day and Killian had felt inspired, so he had spent the next two days looking for the best location to carry out the photo shoot. Despite her initial apprehension of getting into the water with clothes on, she had enjoyed the photo shoot, following Killian's instructions and contributing with her own ideas since she was enthusiastic about emulating her namesake swan.

Given that the place Killian had found was sufficiently recondite, they had decided to celebrate the end of the session in a rather pleasurable way, gaining not only memories of one of her best jobs as an improvised model, but memories of making love under the trees, a blanket of vegetation beneath them. A warm feeling ran through her body as Emma shared a knowing glance with Killian. Without a doubt, their minds were reliving that unforgettable moment.

She remembered something else too - something not so nice. She had been so excited to see the result of the photos that she had felt totally devastated when Killian had told her that he had inexplicably lost the content of that photo shoot.

"You didn't lose the photos! You're a liar!" She recriminated him poking a finger into his chest.

"Sorry?" Killian gave her an apologetic look, but the grin he wore indicated he didn't feel sorry at all. "I needed you to see the picture for the first time right here, Swan." His lips drew a pout in his attempt to defend himself.

"I want a copy of this photo." She sued.

"As you wish." His head made a slight bow. "You can have all the copies you want, love." He assured.

She looked at the image again, discovering with each glance a new small detail, like the few clouds that adorned the sky. "It's just perfect, Killian. Congratulations."

"Again, the merit is all yours. Well, and maybe the sun also has something to do with it as that day, it decided to grace us with its splendor. But I mean it, you're not only stunning but you're always willing to participate in my crazy ideas. I really appreciate it, Emma." As he spoke he approached her, invading her personal space and placing both his hand and his prosthesis on either side of her waist. She, in turn, encircled his neck with her arms.

"I'm in love with an artist, I'm the privileged one here, believe me."

After being enthralled for a few seconds, both lost in each other's eyes, Killian shook his head slightly, as if trying to get out of the trance and offered his hand to Emma, guiding her to the last photograph of the exhibit.

Again, contemplating the image brought more emotion to her already excited heart. This time her eyes filled with tears and her heart fluttered as she looked at the picture in front of her. A photo of a family hug that she remembered very well, of the day she had finally decided to accept that she was part of a family. She had her back to the camera, but the image did show the faces of her parents, both wrapping her up in a protective hug, wearing the same expression of relief and love.

"That's the only photo of the collection that I took with my mobile, but I felt the need to include it here, since that's your life now - our life." He corrected himself as he reached for her cheek to wipe away the tears.

"See? You ended up messing up my makeup." She made a sound that was half-sob and half-giggle. When she got her emotions to calm down she finally was able to thank Killian properly. "Thank you so much, Killian. This surprise has exceeded expectations and this birthday gift competes with the one I received last year, the one who brought me to you."

"Speaking of which, love, your gift may not be over yet. In fact, I need you to close your eyes again. It will only be a few steps, I promise." He seemed so excited, almost bouncing in place, that she could not do anything but accept, close her eyes and trust him.

Only a few steps later they stopped again while Killian whispered that she could already open her eyes. When she did, she found a new smaller showroom. In contrast to the previous room, the photos that appeared hanging from the walls were an explosion of color. She didn't identify the photos at first, too shocked by all the emotions she had experienced throughout the day. But when her brain finally processed what her eyes were watching, she had to cover her mouth with both hands to avoid screaming again.

Killian had filled the walls with her own photographs, the ones she had taken and edited over the past few months. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that she was contemplating her first photographic exhibition.

"Killian..." It was the only sound she could utter before a sob bubbled in her throat. Her agitation did not diminish when he handed her her own informational brochure, rather quite the contrary.

 _The amateur photographer, Emma Swan, presents her first photographic collection,_ **_Pictures of Reality_** _, a work that stands out for the ability to immortalize little pieces of the reality of her place of residence, Storybrooke, a town located on the coast of Maine, and turn them into something special, beautiful and full of meaning. The intelligent use of colors in these small everyday scenes gives her work a great visual quality._

She was not just crying now, her eyes were two fucking fountains. Her gaze was so clouded with tears that she wasn't even able to observe her own work. "God, Killian, I hope this is the last surprise, because I swear I'm going to dry up inside."

This time, he did not even bother to wipe her tears, as it would have been an impossible task. He directly handed her a tissue as he pulled her lightly to guide her through the exhibition hall.

Now, she understood his insistence for her to edit her own photographs. He had managed to make everything that hung on the walls appear to be the result of her work, minus the actual printing of the photographs. And she admired him even more for it, for giving her the wings that would allow her to fly to reach her dreams.

"You're bloody brilliant, love. See all those photos? They’re talking, they're telling us stories, you've been able to capture those stories in your images." The smile of pride that adorned his face was enough for her to be about to burst into tears again, but this time she resisted.

There were photos taken from the docks, families walking, an old man sitting on a bench and telling stories to his grandchildren while the kids watched him enraptured. Killian had also included the photo of Olaf, the snowman, the one that she took the day of their practices in the snow. There were also photos of the nature that surrounded Storybrooke, photos of its inhabitants, photos of Henry, of her parents... Even the two of them also appeared, or at least their two hands intertwined.

Something changed in Killian's attitude as they stood right in front of that photo. His usual confidence seemed to have abandoned him, and a slight blush colored his cheeks. It was evident that he was up to something but she was not sure that she could handle even more surprises.

"Don’t you think there's something missing in that picture?" He asked, his chin pointing toward the photo as he reached out to scratch behind his ear.

Emma tilted her head, studying his features from under her lashes for a few seconds until her gaze finally drifted to the image. Her eyes narrowed trying to detect what could be missing. "I don't know, maybe the lighting? Or the saturation? Or perhaps the focus?"

"The photo is perfect both artistically and technically, but there is something missing on one of your fingers." Out of the corner of her eye, Emma watched as Killian pulled something out of his pants pocket and showed it to her. A ring.

"No!" She gasped unable to stop the emotion.

"No?"

A wrinkle of worry appeared on Killian's forehead as he remained still. _Dammit_! She shook her head and hurried to explain herself. "I mean, it's an _'I can't believe this is happening'_ sort of no..." She held her breath as she thought her heart was going to explode if he did not make any move.

After a few seconds that seemed eternal, the corners of his lips twisted upwards, the flash of something promising dancing in his eyes. "It would be an honor for me if you'd allow me to be a part of our own pictures of reality by becoming your life partner."  
  
Her gaze bored into his briefly until she shook her head in an attempt to get out of the trance. "Is that your way of asking me to marry you, Jones?"  
  
"Is it working?" He offered her a tentative smile.  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"I'm afraid I need you to be more specific here. That ' _yes_ ' means that it's working or that you do want to marry me?"  
  
"Oh my god, Killian." She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I want to marry you." Emma affirmed before throwing herself into his arms and capturing his lips with hers. An endless number of sensations danced inside her, causing her to feel like floating, not quite sure if what she was experiencing was real or just the sweetest of dreams.  
  
Only when they parted to catch their breaths did she realize that he still held the ring in his hand. "What are you waiting for? Put that ring on my finger, Jones." Emma offered her hand palm down.  
  
"So demanding, Swan." He smirked while he finally placed the ring where it belonged.  
  
"But you love me."  
  
"I do, with all my heart."

A flash crossed her mind at that moment when she remembered the first birthday they had shared, his, and the Nol... her parents' warning that he never celebrated it. "Would you let me do something special for you for your next birthday? I mean, I won't even get close to this, but I can try."

"Even at the risk of sounding a bit corny, my birthday will be special enough just by having you by my side."

"You know what I mean, Killian..."

There was a pause in which Emma was able to deduce that Killian was torn between staying anchored to his past or giving the future a chance. The ring she now wore on her finger was an indication and the bright smile he offered anticipated the answer, to her relief. "Even though you don't need to do anything special..."

"I don't need, I want to." Emma corrected.

"Okay then. I won't be opposed any surprise when it's time to celebrate my next birthday."

"Good." Her mind then began to work frantically, searching for ideas about how she might surprise him, now that Killian seemed willing to move on. Maybe that promised trip to London… But there were still a few months left for that. In the meantime, she still had many hours ahead to continue enjoying her special day.

* * *

Emma couldn't stop glancing at her new ring on the ride back to Storybrooke. Not even in her best dreams had she imagined that she would end up engaged on her birthday. The possibility of a wedding was something that she wouldn't ever have thought of until now, honestly, since from the day she had chosen to give a new opportunity to her relationship with Killian, she had decided to enjoy the day to day, without thinking too much about the future.

She didn't really need a ring, not an engagement, or even a wedding to consolidate her feelings towards Killian but somehow, the idea of celebrating with all their friends and family the commitment of their eternal love suddenly sounded more and more appealing. She couldn't wait to see the reaction of the others.

"I guess David will jump for joy when he finds out, now that he can finally call you son..." Emma made a deliberate pause. "...in-law."

"Well ..." Killian gave her a sidelong glance before focusing his eyes on the road again. "Your father may be aware of the news already... I... I asked for his blessing the other day..."

"Of course you did." Emma shook her head slightly as she couldn't prevent a smile from appearing on her face at the evidence, once again, of the strength of her new fiance's relationship with her father. A new idea crossed her mind at that moment, something she hadn't thought about until now. When the wedding took place, someone would have to walk her down the aisle and someone would have to be Killian's best man... No doubt David was going to be a very busy man that day.

With that in mind, she leaned against the back of her seat and closed her eyes, letting the last sunshine of the day caress her skin while a sensation of bliss spread through her body.

* * *

The first thing Mary Margaret did when Emma and Killian came through Granny's door was to look at her left hand as her eyes filled with tears and then she wrapped them both in a tight hug.

There were other curious reactions to the announcement of their engagement, such as Ruby and Graham's.

"Tell me it was you who asked him, Emma." Ruby demanded with a pleading look.

"Eh, not really." Emma replied slowly, not quite sure what all this was about. Her response caused Graham to raise his fist in the air in triumph as Ruby let out a snort of annoyance as she handed him a twenty-dollar bill.

"Wait... Is this a kind of bet or something?" Killian asked as he furrowed his brow in confusion.

"It's totally a bet. Here, my boyfriend and Ruby had the brilliant idea of betting who would be the one asking for the other’s hand in marriage." Elsa explained trying (and failing) to keep a serious expression.

Emma and Killian looked at each other while Killian raised an eyebrow and his lips began to draw a smirk. She shook her head in disbelief, for not having been aware at any time of the bet of her two friends, but she also felt glad because, with their gesture, they implied that they were certain that the engagement would happen sooner or later.

"It's not funny." Ruby grumbled as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Why do men always have to do it? Elsa, you're my last hope!” Ruby smirked at her, showing that she had already recovered after finding a new target. Graham and Elsa instead blushed in unison as they both looked at the floor. It seemed obvious that soon new wedding bells would sound in Storybrooke.

To the relief of the new couple in love, the other guests began to approach Emma and Killian to give them the appropriate congratulations. Henry was the last to do it. After sharing a hug full of affection with Emma, his gaze traveled from Emma to Killian while he wore a thoughtful expression.

"If the three best photographers in the town will be the main ones involved in the wedding, who will be in charge of taking the photos?" He asked with genuine interest.

"Well..." Killian raised his eyebrows as he glanced at his former students, all present at the event. "I think we have quite a few candidates here who will do a worthy job."

"We learned from the best, professor!" Will shouted, causing the rest of them to clap, while the tips of her fiancé's ears turned a characteristic pink color. There was no doubt that Killian had left a mark on each of them and for one reason or another, that course would always remain in their memories. In hers, of course, the course had a special place.

Once all congratulations on the engagement finished, it was time for another celebration, her birthday, and the reason why the party had been launched in the first place. If she thought the surprises were over after their visit to the exhibition hall and after getting engaged, she was wrong. Maybe she had already known in advance that a party in her honor had been waiting for her in Storybrooke, but what she did not expect at all was to find so many displays of affection, so many smiles, so many gifts. Everything for her, all because of her.

The arrival at Storybrooke two years ago had meant the end of her lonely birthday celebrations, but this was the first time she had done it with a real family around her and with the promise of the new family that she and Killian would soon start.

She kept the tradition of blowing the lonely candle in a cupcake, but now she didn't need to take a selfie to capture the moment, many people volunteered to do so. It was Elsa, the second most advantaged student of the course, the person chosen to immortalize the scene while Emma closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by the feeling of being loved, and with the simple wish that both her happiness and that of her loved ones last forever.

The tears shed didn't end with Killian's surprises either. She had never considered herself a weeping person but now that love in all senses of the word ran wild through her veins, she finally allowed herself to express her feelings and be vulnerable.

For that reason, she was unable to hold back the tears when she opened her parent's gift. An old Polaroid camera, the same style as the one Killian still had and like the one she had lost so many years ago. A new wave of affection both to her parents and to her recent fiancé —it was evident that Killian was also behind this surprise— took hold of her.

She reserved the last tears for later, with Killian and the four walls of their bedroom as the only witnesses. Besides the camera, her father had also given her a new letter. Although she had felt the almost unstoppable impulse to read it right there, she had finally preferred to do it in privacy. It was like this: holding the letter handwritten by her father while Killian's arms wrapped her as the happiest day of her life ended. The best part was that that day was only the first of many that were to come.

_My dearest Emma,_

_Happy birthday, my dear daughter. May all your dreams come true._

_I’m aware that we have already established that now that we have finally met, these letters are no longer necessary. But, since this has been my only contact with you all these years, would you allow me to write you one last time? Or maybe we could turn it into our little tradition, something just between you and me. Would you like that?_

_I'm honestly unable to explain in words how utterly happy I am to be with you on this special day and not just settle for watching you in the distance or writing longing letters hoping against hope that one day they would reach to you._

_That day arrived at the moment when, in your huge generosity, you decided to forgive us and include us in your life, being part of your family._

_I know that I will live the rest of my life trying to compensate you for all these years that we have spent separated. But today is a special day for you and also for us, it's not time to look back to the past but to look forward._

_It's likely that when you read this letter you will have discovered the surprises that Killian has prepared for you. You can not imagine how incredibly proud I feel of you, of your talent, of your ability to achieve everything you set out to do._

_Maybe your hand, the one that holds this letter, is wearing now something that wasn't there a few hours ago. Killian came to me a couple of weeks ago, telling me all the plans he had for your birthday and asking for my blessing to marry you._

_I was aware that this would happen sooner or later, but that didn't stop my heart from bursting with happiness knowing that my family was finally going to be complete, that the person I've seen growing up, my best friend, that loyal and honorable man, will be part of our family officially._

_I send my best wishes to you both, so that you are able to build that family that you deserve so much. We will be by your side whenever you allow us, helping and supporting you in this new stage of your journey in life._

_I won't assume that I will be the one that walks you down the aisle, Emma, but in case you are so kind to choose me, it would be my most complete honor to accompany you on that special day and witness one of your milestones. We have lost so many throughout your life that I honestly hope not to miss a single one more._

_Your father who loves you and will always be by your side,_

_David._

* * *

 

###  **Killian Jones. Storybrooke - May 3, 2021**

It was a bright day in early May. The soft sea breeze ruffled his hair as the warm sun's rays caressed his skin, the salty scent penetrating through his nostrils. Killian was at the docks, leaning over the railing, holding his inseparable camera between his hand and his prosthesis while he captured the magic of the sunset, the sky turning into a canvas of reddish and orange hues.

The ocean had always had a calming effect on him, both the sound and the movement of the waves had managed to alleviate the agony of his heart or make the burden of his past more bearable. Even now, when his heart was not only in peace but overflowing with happiness and his old ghosts were no more than a vestige of the past that only made an appearance from time to time, he still enjoyed the effect of the sea on him. Both he and his wife did so to the point that they had begun to consider buying a boat and making photographic expeditions along the coast of Maine. Or even further, only they would establish the limit.

 _His wife_. He let the word slide through his mind as he could almost taste its meaning by watching the ring in his hand, one of the many proofs that what he was experiencing wasn't a dream, it was real. So real that sometimes the feeling was too overwhelming. This was his life now, waiting for his wife and father in law in one of their favorite spots of the town to later enjoy a peaceful dinner together. It was a simple and perhaps predictable life but he wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

Emma had asked him on occasion if he missed his years of adventure traveling to exotic places or working on risky missions so that the world would not forget the most disadvantaged people. The answer was always immediate. _No_ , he didn't miss his previous life, not when he now had something to live for. And he could always fight injustice by offering his services in another way.

Just then, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, while a sense of anticipation hummed under his skin. He just needed to turn his head slightly to find the cause. Emma, his wife, the imminent future mother of his daughter, the love of his life, was walking towards him, causing his heart to flutter. She looked like a goddess, dressed in all white, her golden hair dancing to the rhythm of the sea breeze, her lips drawing a loving smile and her bright green eyes fixed on him.

His fingers began to tingle so he had no choice but to give in to the impulse, grabbing the camera to capture the image of the impressive woman he had for a wife. She was his muse, the person who had brought inspiration back to his life, after all. Knowing she was observed, she didn't hesitate to pose for him while her hand caressed her very swollen belly.

Only when he was satisfied enough with the result of his improvised photo shoot did she approach him, planting a loud kiss on his lips.

"This tiny little baby is not even born yet and she has already got more pictures than her mother and father together. I don't even want to imagine what will happen to us when she finally decides to arrive. We're going to have to buy a new apartment just to get more walls to hang her photos."

A laugh bubbled from his chest as he pushed aside the camera that hung around his neck to make space for his wife in his arms. "Oddly enough, I wasn't taking pictures of her, but of her stunning mum."

"You mean the whale I've become." She grumbled, her lips drawing an adorable pout. "I honestly can't wait for this baby to arrive, I think I'm going to explode at any moment."

Killian chuckled as he bent over until his face was at the same level as Emma's belly, leaving a delicate kiss on the fabric that covered her as he whispered, "Don’t listen to your mother, little love, she is and always will be the most beautiful woman, at least until you get here, of course."

He didn't need to look at his wife's face to know that she was rolling her eyes at that moment, although the smile pulling at her lips would become wider.

"This baby and her mom are pretty hungry. Why don't we head for Granny's right now?"

It was then that Killian realized that Emma had arrived alone. She and David were supposed to come directly from the newspaper office and then the three of them would meet with Mary Margaret at Granny's.

True to her decision, Emma had begun her studies to become a journalist and she was already in the process of getting it. Meanwhile, she had started to work in the local newspaper under her father's orders, thus achieving not only a source of income but to strengthen bonds with David.

"Where's your father?"

Emma rolled her eyes before answering. "He got a call from Mary Margaret for him to pick her up. Guess where she was?"

"In our house?" Killian asked, knowing in advance the answer for Emma's reaction.

"Yeah, apparently she's found the nicest crib sheet set ever and she just had to have everything ready because of the imminent arrival of this little human being." She pointed towards her belly. Although there was a slight bit of complaint in her voice and her brows furrowed slightly, Killian knew that she didn't mind at all that her mother had taken control of the baby's preparations.

They had previously talked about this and both agreed. Emma understood their reasons, accepting that their granddaughter was going to give them the opportunity to experience all that they had missed with her since, in addition, they had decided long ago that they wouldn't become parents again, that they wouldn't look for a substitute for their lost daughter.

Emma and Killian weren't going to complain if that meant lightening their responsibilities and enjoying more time together. They even have already predicted future dates when their little girl had grown enough to stay in the care of her grandparents from time to time.

"By the way, I caught David again today." Emma's voice brought him back to reality. "He adores you, you know, don't you? He was talking on the phone with someone and he wouldn't stop talking like this ' _my son this... my son that...'_ He seems to always forget the _'in-law_ ' when he refers to you."

A warm sensation spread to his heart when he heard Emma. The feeling was mutual. If before the ties with David and Mary Margaret were strong, now that they had officially become family they were indestructible. David was not only his father-in-law but his best friend, his co-worker from time to time and the father figure he had needed so much since the loss of his brother. "But you and I know that doesn't bother you, right?"

"Nah, I find it pretty adorable, sort of weird, but adorable nonetheless." Emma offered him a soft smile while her hand caressed her belly again. "And now that I'm talking about him, I'm going to send them a text because my stomach is literally growling. I'm gonna faint if I don't eat any food in the next few minutes." Emma pulled the phone out of her purse and typed on the screen quickly. Next, she offered her hand. "Shall we?"

"We shall." Killian held her hand but instead of walking, he brought her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles as his eyes locked on hers. "Did I tell you today how much I love you, Swan?"

Emma remained thoughtful for a few seconds before answering. "Only a couple of times, but I wouldn't mind listening to it again."

The adorable smile that appeared on her lips almost made him forget to say the words, but he repressed the desire to kiss her senselessly until a little later. "Just a reminder, I love you Emma Swan-Jones."

"I love you too, Killian Jones. And now kiss your wife already."

He happily obliged.

* * *

 

###  **David Nolan. Storybrooke -  May 3, 2021**

When David arrived at his daughter and Killian's apartment, he went directly to the small nursery, the room next to the master suite that had served as a dark room before they decided to move into that apartment and transform Emma's old apartment as a photo studio.

Mary Margaret was already there, but instead of keeping busy or simply watching distractedly the bedroom that would welcome their granddaughter in just a few weeks — in just a few days if they were lucky— he found her in the middle of the room, staring at the screen of her phone while covering her mouth with her free hand.

A tug of concern settled in the pit of his stomach as he hurried to get to his wife. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Mary Margaret flinched as she noticed his presence, while she looked away from the phone at him, her eyes full of tears that threatened to spill. "David..." She gasped. Then she shook her head, as if she had finished processing the information, while her face lit up. "Nothing is wrong, it's the opposite of wrong, actually. Everything is perfect." She breathed out while she handed him her phone.

**_Hi mom! Did dad already arrive? Your granddaughter and I are starving, so we're heading to Granny's now. Don't be late unless you want to arrive when I've devoured half of Granny's pantry. ES_ **

**_Oh, and mom? Can you get me the jar of pickles that I keep in the cupboard? I may have a kind of craving right now and Ruby texted me to inform me that they have run out of stock. Can you believe it? ES_ **

_Mom and dad._.. David's heart thudded in his chest as his stomach fluttered, when he read those words for the first time. Emma had accepted them as parents a long time ago, and he was aware that she referred to them as such when talking to other people, but never when talking directly to them. Until now.

And the way she had chosen to do it only increased his love for her. She had used a simple text, something causal that in other circumstances would be impersonal, and had transformed it into something magical and special just by using two words. He didn't know if his poor heart would resist when she finally uttered the words out loud.

"Let's go get our daughter and son." David grabbed his wife's hand, pulling her gently while placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. Before leaving the nursery, he took a last look, while a warm sensation spread to his heart. Their granddaughter wasn't yet born, but her bedroom was already full of life, with warm colors, photos, and drawings adorning the walls. Even the old rag doll that was once destined for Emma now occupied a privileged place in the room.

There was no doubt that she would always be surrounded by memories in the form of pictures and stories and, above all, surrounded by the love of her entire family. He couldn't wait to finally meet her, hold her in his arms and never let her go.

  ** _TheLadySwan_ ** _Family, that wide concept that encompasses endless possibilities, such as the unconventional family, without blood ties between its members, but with an indestructible union despite the misfortunes they go through. Or as the family that is reunited after too many years apart and whose members have to re-establish the ties that were broken at the beginning. Or as the family that is about to add a new member, a tiny person who has not yet been born but who has already managed to create unbreakable ties with the rest of her loved ones. Your whole family is looking forward to your arrival, Hope._

 

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end...
> 
> I will never be able to thank the mods enough for creating and organizing this amazing event and for allowing me to participate. Thanks to that, I’ve managed to finish my first MC. This story has meant so much to me on so many levels that this experience will always remain in my memory.


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